The Magic in Ordinary
by Runt the Brave
Summary: Two hundred and three Students. One ordinary boy. One night sleep walking. A splash of dementor motivation. The Patronus Charm. Third year fiction, dealing with dementors, memories, friends, and family.
1. Meeting with Professors

_54 Gryffindors. 203 Hogwarts students. One night sleep-walking. Motivation from dementors. The Patronus Charm. People. Let Harry Potter's Campaign of Sociality begin. Why? Because Harry Potter is going to meet and at least try to befriend all the likeable people in school. He is going to prepare for whatever dark futures lie ahead of him, like the whole Black fiasco, but he's going to do this with the help of his entire school. Mostly. Only the likeable people, remember? _

_Follow Harry as he purposefully changes the course of his life, as he puts effort into spending more time with more people, and develops from a broken, hurting young boy, into a powerful, determined, independent warrior with the loyalty of many behind him. Join with Harry, know-it-all Hermione Granger, beaten little Paradise Aster, confidant and confident Neville Longbottom, sadistic-evil-loveable Kenneth Towler, "Deathbringer" Hedwig Potter, the fourth year Gryffindor girls, and so many more, you won't be able to keep track, eh, probably. All 203 students and more will be mentioned at one time or other during Harry Potter's third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Oh, and Harry is super rich, but… I might as well tell you that he hates it. This is Harry we're talking about, remember? Little old hates-fame-attention-glory-anything Harry Potter._

_Third year fic, bounces between a horrid attempt at humor and a bunch of more serious themes. Includes powerful and independent Harry, along with Ron and Dumbledore bashing. There will probably be some Sirius bashing as well, but there's not any, at least right now. This fic is not meant to be taken seriously. I'm well aware that Harry is probably really OOC, but I don't really care, but I think I kept enough hesitancy and pain to make it really Harry. Although, really, in all honesty, I wrote the first twelve thousand in one day because I was brain-dead and stuck on my current original fiction story thing. So, have a laugh, have a cry, and don't think this story is anything worth talking about._

…_insert helicopter introductory nature shot…_

The Magic in Ordinary

Chapter One

Meeting with Professors

The office was full of interesting creatures. Books lined nearly three full walls of the small room. Professor Lupin sat at his desk, blinking down at the little boy across from him. "Professor," Harry said, "I need to fight the dementors. I need to be able to resist them." Harry wasn't making eye contact with him. He didn't want to admit to weakness. The poor child...

"I am no expert at the only spell that can stop them, Harry," Professor Lupin said, "but I can teach you what I know." It was only two weeks into the school year. Harry had looked haunted and grim ever since the train ride, ever since he had known the boy. Lupin still struggled to figure out why no one did anything. Was it ordinary for Harry to look like this? So haunted and grim and old beyond his years? It was early morning on the Saturday after their second defense lesson. "Tell me, Harry, what do you know of emotion-based magic?"

Harry hesitated. His fingernail bit into the wood of the hardback chair. His feet just whispered over the threads in the soft brown carpet. "I know emotions can make magic stronger. Some spells work best if the caster is angry, especially curses. Professor Flitwick said we'd study emotion-spells after the OWLs."

"Precisely. The spell that protects against dementors is an emotion based spell, and a difficult one at that," Professor Lupin said. "It will be difficult for you to learn."

"I _need_ to learn it, Professor," Harry whispered, his tone of voice low, desperate, pleading.

"Very well." Lupin stood. He fought to keep his face blank of emotion as this boy, his best friend's child, looked so utterly broken and despondent. What had Harry heard when he came in contact with the dementor? What had scared him to such a degree? The professor walked around his desk and stood next to Harry's chair. The boy looked up at him, green eyes full with the type of determination that comes only from necessity. "The incantation is _expecto patronum_." Harry repeated the words. "Again." Harry repeated the words. "Translate."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Um—"

Lupin turned to his bookshelves, scanning the rows for the books on introductory Latin. He really wished it was possible to amend bits and pieces of the Hogwarts curriculum. It would make teaching so much easier. Ah. There it was. Professor Lupin pulled down a book of introductory Latin and placed it on his desk, in front of Harry. "I advise you to take up Latin, Harry. Extra languages are always beneficial." Something flirted through Harry's eyes and his determination hardened. "Now, the Patronus Charm is much more difficult in the presence of a dementor, but let's start without." Lupin took out his wand and cast the spell. A small, silvery, cat-like creature circled the air around Harry's chair. The polecat bounded through the hair, leaving behind a trail of sparkling silver magic.

"You try. Think of a happy memory; a memory you would never want to give up, and focus on that memory while you cast the spell," Lupin said. Doubts ran through his head. He should have reassured Harry that he wouldn't achieve it quickly. He should have told Harry that it was a difficult, difficult, beyond possible for a thirteen-year-old. He should have- Harry pulled out his wand, jumped out of his chair and swallowed. He stared at the polecat for a few moments before raising his wand.

"_Expecto patronum._" There was no hesitation in Harry's voice, no doubt or worry or fear. A silvery mist poured from Harry's wand, twisted and convulsed until what could only be a colt appeared amongst the mist. Lupin blinked and forced himself not to stumble back. How? The colt raised its head and stared at its caster. Seconds passed. A swirl of green intermixed through the mix until it melted into the colt's eyes. Seconds passed. Green eyes stared at boy and professor from the silvery colt. The polecat dissipated when Lupin lost control of his spell. Harry turned and looked at Lupin, relief clear on his face. "That's the spell?"

Lupin opened his mouth to answer. He really did. No sound came out.

Harry looked confused. The colt stepped forward and nuzzled him. Harry reached up and stroked the Patronus's nose. It was truly corporal. Lupin made a hissed, whispered noise of disbelief. How? Harry looked at him again, "Professor?"

"That shouldn't be possible," Lupin said, "and yet you did it. Cancel the spell, Harry. Let's see if you can do it again."

Harry canceled the spell and the silvery colt dissipated into the air with a flurry of mist. A look of sadness crossed Harry's face. He raised his wand again, focused again on that memory, and whispered the spell again. "_Expecto patronum._" It took less than seconds this time, for the silver colt to bound from Harry's wand and fill the office with a pale, moonlight look. This time, however, the colt did not have green eyes. _How?_ The question rang through Lupin's head as he stared down at the little third-year. Harry was probably capable of a lot of things.

"Very... very good, Harry," Lupin managed to say. "We'll have to test it against a dementor to see if it stands, but I've never... I've never seen someone cast that spell on the first try. I'll try and find a boggart for us to use."

Harry's eyes sparkled. "Thank you Professor." His focused was fixed on the colt. "The patronus... do you name them? Are they like familiars, in a way? Can you have multiple?"

Lupin blinked. "You can name them, if you want. Familiars, no, not really. And I've never heard of anyone having multiple patroni." Had something just unleashed a flood of curiosity from the boy? Every moment he seemed more like Lily than James.

"Oh," Harry said, as if that solved everything. He lowered the want and the colt disappeared. "Thank you, Professor."

"I'll let you know when I've a boggart available, Harry," Professor Lupin said, "In... in the meantime, study the Latin book and see if you can translate the spell for me."

Harry nodded, grabbed the book, and exited the defense professor's office.

Lupin collapsed back in his chair with a sigh.

Harry James Potter was something else.

o.o.o.o.o.o

It took Harry a few minutes to figure out what to do next. He wanted to run and tell someone about the Patronus... Lupin had said it was _really_ hard, but, that didn't seem right. Besides, Ron and Hermione were in the middle of another fight. He wanted to go tell Professor Sinistra of his triumph, as she had been particularly encouraging last year and everything. He could tell Professor Flitwick though; emotion-based charms and spells were supposed to be _really_ hard. But summoning the colt was almost _easy._ All he needed to do was think of flying, and think of how great the wind felt as it blew through and over him, how it felt to be so free in the sky. Harry loved to fly. He could go to Professor McGonagall, and ask about the Divination problem. He didn't want to spend the next five years having his death predicted by that professor.

Well, seeing Professor McGonagall was a must. The rest could wait. Harry meandered through the hallways. It was Saturday. Most everyone was outside or back in their common rooms, playing games and such-like. It took him five minutes to reach Professor McGonagall's office, which was equidistant between the Transfiguration classrooms and the Gryffindor common room. When Harry knocked, McGonagall looked up, "Just a moment, Mr. Potter." She was at her desk, talking with an older Gryffindor that Harry only sort of recognized. It was a girl in Oliver's year.

He retreated from the doorway and stood against the wall. His mind raced through a number of possible names for his colt. Something to do with flying. Flyaway? Windracer? Nothing fit. Maybe Hedwig would have some ideas when she visited this evening. He pulled the book on Latin out from his over the shoulder back and started actually reading the foreword. One thing for sure, he was not excited at learning another language. It took a few moments, but the girl stepped through the threshold and smiled down at him. She had a nice smile. "Hey, Mr. Potter. Professor McGonagall can see you now."

"Thanks, but it's Harry, um-" He really wished he knew her name. He really only knew the Quidditch team or people in his own year. That should probably be rectified, fast.

"Emma MacDonald," she said, sticking out a hand. "Seventh year. I've got a sister a year ahead of you, though. Apparently, the fourth years talk about you quite a bit."

They shook hands. Harry searched desperately for someway of not showing how awkward that made him feel. Humor? Well, that probably worked. "I'll have to tell Katie to back off then. The Quidditch girls are such gossips." Apparently, it worked. Emma laughed before turning and heading for the Gryffindor common room. She seemed like a nice person. Yeah, Harry thought, he really should meet new people, and this was probably the perfect year to do it. Hopefully. If nothing else when drastically wrong. This Black business was enough. Harry stepped into McGonagall's office.

She offered him a tight lipped smile. "What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry swallowed. "Two things, actually. Is it possible for me to switch out of Divination? If it's not... I don't..."

Understanding seemed to cross McGonagall's face. "Of course. You wouldn't be that far behind in whatever class you'd choice to switch into. And I dare say Miss Granger will help you catch up. Do you have any idea as to what you'd rather take?"

Yes, but he'd rather get her opinion. "What would you suggest, Professor? I grew up with Muggles, so I don't really think Muggle Studies would be the best option."

A true grin crossed McGonagall's face. "The best option for you really depends on what you're interested in. Ancient Runes requires a lot of memorization, and is very beneficial when it comes to warding, rituals, and the supply of power, all very important things in the adult life. Arithmancy is the math behind magic. It is closely linked into spell creation and other aspects of what magic truly is. What do you think most interests you?"

"Um," Harry paused. "The thing is, Professor, is it just seems like danger seems to find me. And with Professor Quirrel first year, and the basilisk after that, I just... want to be prepared. I'd want to take both classes, but I don't want to give of Care of Magical Creatures." It took a lot to admit that. Harry was aware this would be problematic. It would probably get Ron mad at him. It would probably make Hermione overly joyful. It would change his entire study habits.

"Many Ravenclaws and a few others take three additional classes instead of two," Professor McGonagall said, her grin still in place. That was slightly unnerving. "Three is the limit for students whose names are not Hermione Granger, two is just a minimum. It would be difficult, and your course load would radically change, if you want me to move you into both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."

"Please," Harry said. It had worked. Hermione would be so proud... Eeeeek. Professor McGonagall pulled out pieces of paper from her desk and wrote something down on two pieces. She folded the parchment and handed them to Harry. He was worried though. This additional coursework would be challenging. And... what would they think if he managed to break the grading habit? He always dumbed down his grades. It's the only way he survived Dudley. But Dudley wasn't here. Dudley couldn't hurt him anymore.

"You'll be moved into Arithmancy during your previous Divination class period. And you'll take Ancient Runes during a few of your study periods. Due to the scheduling nature of Ancient Runes, it's a mix of all four houses, and still a small class. Neville Longbottom is in that class, however." That made sense; he had been wondering where Neville was their last study period. "These notes are for Professors Babbling and Vector, who teach Runes and Arithmancy respectively. They'll be expecting you some time before lunch today so you discuss what needs to be done before you join their classes next week. And your other question?"

Oh. Right. He'd almost forgotten about that. Or at least, forgotten that he was going to admit he needed help. That really, really hurt, the whole needing thing. "I- I need help. Back in primary school... uh… Muggle school... I'd... I never let myself get better grades than my cousin. And... um... I really need to break that habit. Can you... um... may you... I guess, I guess I just need someone to keep me on track." Professor McGonagall was staring. Okay. Yes. That was _really_ unnerving. "I know I can do it," Harry continued, "but, Hermione's never been successful in getting me to work and I just thought... maybe you'd be able to help."

"Of course, Harry," McGonagall said. He immediately noticed her use of his name. "Perhaps you'd like to set up weekly meetings so that we can make sure you stay on track, grade-wise and study-wise?"

Harry nodded. "That would be great. Professor Sinistra said she'd help me too, if you get too busy-"

"It's no problem, Harry," McGonagall said, her eyebrows creeping upward. Since when had Harry been close with Aurora? "Why don't you come back here next week, around this same time?" Harry nodded. "Before you go, Mr. Potter, could you perhaps cast a Transfiguration spell? Perhaps the spell we worked on in class yesterday?" Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at a scrap of parchment on the professor's desk. They had been during mostly review stuff, changing inanimate objects into other inanimate objects. The spell came to mind instantly, and he cast it instantly, utterly determined that it would work. And it did. A spell that he had seemingly struggled with yesterday simply worked. That felt good. McGonagall's eyebrows stayed high. "Well, thank you, Mr. Potter. I'd suggest you head straight to one of the other professors now."

Harry nodded, but he really wanted to go see Flitwick or Sinistra. But they could wait. They really, really could wait. "Thanks Professor." He left her office.

Professor McGonagall watched him go, a pure, gleeful smile on his face. He'd managed that Transfiguration perfectly. _Thank Merlin,_ Harry might be more like his father than she had thought. One thing was for sure, she'd hold him to a much higher standing now.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Hermione had told him exactly where the offices of her other professors were, so Harry had no trouble locating those offices. He went to Professor Babbling first. The man was rather old, balding, with gray tuffs of hair around his ears. His eyes had a certain sparkle to them, and his office was filled with more books than Professor Lupin's. He wore a simple, brown robe with blue lining. A bronze raven perched on his desk. That was slightly creepy.

"McGonagall said you're dropping Divination," Babbling said, before even greeting him with a name or anything. "Good. Good. You aren't that far behind, just a couple of chapters in the textbook in a few basic rules. Read chapters one through five by Tuesday, and look over this packet here. Here's a supply list. And here's a set of school supplies that you can use until you owl order your own. There's not much else you need, eh Mr. Potter? We've only had a few classes, and I'm sure you'll catch up just fine. Now run along, I'm sure you don't want to be talking to an old professor on a Saturday morning, eh?"

He had said that very, very fast, in a very, very congenial manner. Harry liked the old professor. He slipped the school textbook, the packet of parchment, and what looked to be a set of writing utensils into his shoulder bag. The bag was a lot heavier than it was when he went to meet with Professor Lupin... Professor Babbling shooed him out of his office with a few more congenial tangents about the weather. He certainly fit his last name.

o.o.o.o.o.o

It was around eleven o'clock when Harry showed up in Professor Vector's office. The office looked a lot like McGonagall's did, in terms of just blank nothingness. But Vector was nothing like McGonagall at all. She wore bright colors and her hair was died bright green. She was younger than most professors, and looked like she just liked having fun. It was a little scary, actually. And she wasn't at all as cool as Professor Babbling. She was, um, rather starstruck and it took her a few moments to overcome that.

"Harry Potter," she kept saying, whenever she had a chance to say his name. "Harry Potter. What do you know about math?"

"I'm pretty good at Muggle math," Harry said, nervously taking the seat she pointed to. "But I don't know how that relates to-"

"It's good!" Vector crowed. "I spend most of the first two weeks explaining simple rules of numbers to the ignoramus of the wizarding brood." Okay. Vector was obviously muggleborn. "Addition. Subtraction. Multiplication. Division. Fractions. Percents. Decimals. We just started basic geometry last class period. Um..." She shuffled through a mass of papers on her desk. "I had a pretest for you, somewhere... Ah! Here it is." She pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Harry. "Take this and I'll see if I need to give you any catch up work." She handed him a quill and conjured a small table and desk. That was a really cool piece of magic.

For the next twenty minutes, Harry answered simple mathematics questions, like _what is six times eight?_ or _if Jenny has six brooms and the Malfoy's buy three, how many brooms does Jenny have?_ Harry found it fascinating how iconic the name Malfoy was across all borders. That could just have been Vector's own eccentricities, but he doubted it. Some of the geometry problems, Harry didn't understand, but he was pretty confident that he had answered all of them to the best of his ability. He gave the test back to the professor and remained seated while she looked through it.

"Looks good," Vector said. "I'll give you a school textbook if you want to do some own reading, but you'll be fine jumping straight into class. You should owl-order your own book or buy one from an older student. I look forward to having you in my class, Harry Potter." Well, at least starstruck and eccentric was better than Trelawney. Harry accepted the proffered book and headed for Professor Flitwick's office. If he hurried, he could probably make it before lunch.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Professor Flitwick was working in his classroom with what looked to be a couple of first year Ravenclaws on a very basic spell. Oh, Ravenclaws. Harry stood to the side until Flitwick noticed him. The diminutive professor gestured Harry to go on through to his office while he instructed the little Ravenclaws to keep working. Harry collapsed into one of the plush chairs on Flitwick's room and looked around in contentment. He liked Flitwick's office. It was a really comforting place. He pulled out the Latin textbook again and finished reading the foreword. This was really not going to be fun.

In a few moments, Professor Flitwick joined him in the office. "And what can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry folded the book closed and slipped in back into his bag. "I wanted to ask you about emotion-based magic," Harry started, forcing himself to be honest. "I- I had some problems with the dementors, and I went to Professor Lupin and he said he could teach me the Patronus charm."

Flitwick's eyes widened. "That is a very advanced charm, Mr. Potter, perhaps-"

Harry looked down. "I did it on my first try."

Flitwick stared.

Harry pulled out his wand and prayed that this would work. He really needed someone's opinion on this whole thing. "_Expecto patronum,_" Harry said, focusing on the feeling of flying. Calm washed over him and out sprung the silver colt with green eyes, as bright and happy as the moon. It felt really, really good. Professor Flitwick squeaked and fell backwards, falling to the ground in a startled heap of charms master. It was a little amusing, actually. Harry grinned.

Professor Flitwick pulled himself to his feet and stared at the third year in front of him. "You did a _corporal patronus_ on your first try?" He looked like he was going to hyperventilate.

"Yes Professor," Harry said. He wanted to fidget. He forced himself to stay calm.

Flitwick stared. "Um. Okay. You did this because you've been having problems with the dementors. Interesting. Let's see. There is an incantation I want you to try. _Orchideous_. It is an emotion-based spell designed to produce a bunch of flowers. Your emotions relate directly to the type of flowers produced. Give it a try."

Harry stared blankly at his wand. He knew flowers well enough, from gardening and Herbology and such-like. His aunt had always liked her red roses and her petunia plants. Roses. Roses. Red roses always connected with love, but they had sharp thorns and they bit at his fingers. And then there were lilies, but he didn't know a lot of lilies. Harry focused in on the pain his fingers felt when he dealt with roses. "_Orchideous._" He closed his eyes this time, trying to visualize the roses better. When he opened his eyes, two discolored roses lay at his feet with full stems and oversized thorns.

He looked at his professor, only to see that the charms professor was holding in a smirk of mirth. "Have some bad experiences with roses, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"That is an extremely good result for your first time with that spell, Mr. Potter. If you are interested, we could definitely work with some more emotion-based magic, as extra course work. You seem to have a great aptitude for it." Flitwick picked up the two limp looking roses and laid them on his desk.

"Um," Harry said, "uh. I'd like that, but I just dropped Divination and took on a Ravenclaw course load, so I'm not sure-"

Flitwick smirked. "Whenever you're free, Mr. Potter. Whenever you're free. That's a pretty standard policy for the Ravens."

"Thanks, Professor."


	2. A Social Afternoon

…_insert second helicopter introductory nature shot…_

Chapter Two

A Social Afternoon

Harry entered the Great Hall and quickly scanned the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione were sitting across from each other in obvious stony silence. Lavender and Pavarti sat next to Hermione, with Neville and Seamus not far from Ron. Dean was nowhere to be seen. He could have simply gone and joined them, that would have been the easy thing to do, but this wasn't… easy. He wasn't looking for easy. He wanted to reinvent himself. Make more friends. Make more allies. Where was the Quidditch team?

Katie was the closest, sitting with a bunch of girls that were probably from her own year. That would be interesting. Hm… If Emma MacDonald's sister was among them, he could probably start conversation pretty easily, using Emma's comments as the starting, but even if she wasn't, he got along well enough with Katie. Harry moved down the Gryffindor table until he reached Katie Bell's side. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, Harry slid into the seat next to his teammate. "So, I have it on good authority that you gossip about me, you really should stop that."

Katie simply stared at him, her dark eyes curious, her fork paused halfway to her mouth. Her friends weren't so slow to catch on, however. The girl across from Harry grinned. "Well if you weren't so famous and good looking, we wouldn't have to gossip, would we?"

"If you focused more on studies than gossip, you might get better grades," Harry responded, making a wild guess in the dark and hoping it hit home. It was an educated guess, however, if you take into consideration what Harry knew about Pavarti and Lavender.

The other girls laughed, even Katie. The girl grinned and looked down at her plate, a little chagrinned. "Fine. Fine. You win, Mr. Famous Potter."

"What are you doing here, Harry?" Katie asked. She had probably only just regained the ability to speak.

Harry started heaping food onto his plate. "Making friends. That and Ron and Hermione really should just kiss and make up. They fight too much." More laughs. Apparently, conversation with people he didn't really know wasn't as hard as Harry originally presumed.

"Do you even know my friends?" Katie asked, heaping herself to another serving of food.

"Nope. I'm just rectifying my deplorable social skills."

A certain, scary level of interest sparked in the girls' eyes. Even Katie looked scarily interested. Oh no. This was seriously not good. The girl across the table looked at Harry with a calculating glare. "To what extent?"

Well, he might as well be honest. "I don't know people. And I need to know people. I need allies and friends and people I can count on for support and help. And I really don't know many people in this school. I figured it would be wise to change that." If possible, the fourth year Gryffindor girls looked almost excited as if Professor Snape had suddenly decided to be good. That was really very annoying.

"You want to create a social network," said one of the girls, a smallish, brown haired girl on Katie's other side. "Oh _excellent._"

_Really. Very. __Not.__ Good!_

"We can definitely help you there," Katie said, amusement in her voice. "You shouldn't be a hard client, in anyway. You're already famous."

"You'll need dancing lessons, I assume," said one of the girls, "and just general etiquette."

"We'll also probably have to go through the various houses and such; it's not much help with muggleborns, but it'll definitely improve relationships with the Noble houses. You have seemed very… unaware, of certain customs. We can rectify that."

Harry's head was starting to spin.

"It probably won't be just us," Katie said, musing. "We'll get the whole house involved."

"And Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw," the girls kept talking at a very fast pace, ignoring Harry's whitening face. "And probably some of the good Slytherins."

"Definitely. We'll build you a social network you just can't say no too. We'll make you King of the School, prefect and headboy for sure. Of course, you'll need to put a bit of effort into it yourself, but once we lay the groundwork and start the rumors and everything, it should be pretty easy."

Harry just blinked. He really, truly had no idea how to respond to all of this. He had cast an extraordinarily difficult spell just this morning, and now through just one conversation, he had five girls pretty much promising to help him build a whole social network within Hogwarts. How on earth? But he couldn't deny this was what he wanted. He needed the connections. He needed the people. And if this was how it was going to work, he was game. "All right," Harry said. "Teach me. Connect me. I'll learn."

"Excellent," said the girl across the table. "We can even start this afternoon."

"Dakota's gonna love this," said one of the girls. "Too bad she's in the hospital wing right now."

"Why?" Harry asked, as he finished a bite of shepherds' pie.

The girls all snickered. Katie sighed, "Because one of the two boys in our grade is an absolute idiot. Cormac McLaggen. It really does cut down the dateable boys in our year."

Harry blinked. Oh please no.

"There's six Gryffindor girls in our year," one of the girls said, obviously directed towards Harry. "I'm Eliza Kirke." She gestured to the girl sitting across from Harry. "Mary MacDonald. You know Katherine, here." Next to Katie was Queenie Babbling, and next to Mary was Demelza Robbins. The girl in the hospital, Dakota, was Demelza's older sister, but only by ten months, so they were in the same year. Harry made note of hair and eye color and other markers he could use to tell the girls apart.

He leaned across Katie to speak to Queenie. "Are you related to Professor Babbling?"

"Yup, he's my gramps," she said, as she bit into an apple. "You taking his course?"

"I am now," Harry replied, digging into his shepherds' pie with relish. It was particularly good today. "He seemed really cool."

"He is," Katie said, "I love Ancient Runes."

The meal continued on for a few more minutes as Harry listened to the gossip of the five girls. They were a fairly close knit group, at least as close as the six girls could manage. From what he could deduce, Queenie and Katie were closer than the rest, Mary and Eliza generally paired off, and Demelza and Dakota were as close as sisters could be. It made Harry a little jealous, actually. He wished he had a sibling or two, but of course, he didn't wish for anyone else to have suffered through the Dursley's with him, so that was a conflicting point of interest and…

The conversation ebbed and flowed. Harry joined in on some of the points, and the girls seemed to make it a point of including him, but not to the point that he felt like they were actually working on it or being unnatural. It felt pretty cool, actually, to talk with them. It was a nice break from the predictable arguments of Ron and Hermione with the predictable interjections of his other yearmates.

Saturday lunches were usually fun. Most people hung around after they finished eating; some even jumped between tables to check in with friends in other houses. As conversation kept waxing and waning, Harry pulled out the packet on Ancient Runes and flipped through the first couple of pages. None of the girls he was sitting with made any comment, although Katie and Queenie also pulled out study material. Harry resisted a groan. Studying at lunch! He'd be turning into Hermione sooner or later.

Towards the end of the meal, a Gryffindor boy that Harry vaguely recognized breezed into the Great Hall and joined Harry and the girls. He raised an eyebrow at Harry, but said nothing as he loaded a plate with food and started to eat.

"Hey Able," Mary said, before turning back to her conversation. Able just kept eating.

Harry kept reading. He had stumbled upon a few words that he didn't understand what they meant, but Katie divined them for him. It was a really great atmosphere. Harry hadn't been expecting that. He actually felt comfortable. When Able finished eating, the two boys looked at each other, quiet.

Able stuck out his hand. "Able Vane."

Harry shook the proffer hand. "Harry Potter."

"You're famous."

"You're not."

"I'm glad of it."

"I'm jealous."

Able cracked a smile. "So why are you sitting with us, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm either expanding horizons or avoiding arguing friends. Take your pick." The two boys shared a laugh.

"You know, Mary," Demelza said, "I'm beginning to think that Harry's very personality will make our teaching job a lot easier." The girls all chuckled. Able looked a little confused, but when Harry shot him a mock-pained look, the other boy grinned and mimed being sympathetic.

Mary grinned at the two boys. "Hey, Able, wanna attend Harry's dance lessons so everything isn't so awkward?"

Able pushed his plate away and bashed his head on the table. "I'm not getting out of this?"

"Nope," the girls chorused together.

"Harry," Able said, in a serious tone, "I'm trying my very hardest to hate you right now."

Harry shrugged. He could tell Able was joking. "I get that a lot."

o.o.o.o.o.o

"Harry!" Harry turned from his walking companions and looked back at Ron and Hermione. Demelza and Able took a few more steps but stopped a distance ahead of Harry. They were obviously still mad at each other, but walking together. That was a slight improvement. "Where were you, mate?" Ron asked, as the two of them drew closer. "I looked for you at lunch. And you were gone all morning-"

"I ate with Katie and the fourth years," Harry said, keeping his voice level. He really did not want Ron mad at him. "And this morning I was talking with professors."

"Which professors?" Hermione asked, critical judgment in her voice.

"McGonagall, Lupin and Flitwick," Harry said, leaving out the other two. He really did not want to tell his friends yet. "And, well, I was in a conversation, so if you'll excuse me." Harry turned and caught up with Demelza and Able. They both gave him confused looks, but jumped smoothly back into their conversation about Astronomy. Apparently, it was Able's favorite class. Harry was _really_ starting to like his new friends.

They veered off course of the Gryffindor common room, heading instead for the hospital room. Neither Ron nor Hermione followed them. Demelza was the first to mention it. "You were kind of abrupt with your friends there."

Harry bit his lip. "I want to chance things about myself. I'm not sure how they're going to take that."

They both nodded. "You should still talk to them," Able said, "and at least get their opinions before being brusque like that. They could still be valuable friends, especially Granger." They were silent for a time before slipping back into a conversation about Astronomy and the science of the night. That conversation carried them all the way to the hospital room, where a girl – who could only be Dakota Robbins – was sitting on a bed and humming some song that Harry had never heard.

She jumped up when they arrived. "Finally! Madame Pomfrey said I couldn't leave until someone picked me up! Want took you so long, Dem?"

Demelza smirked. "Well, we wanted Harry to meet you, so we just figured we'd come up after lunch."

Dakota's jaw dropped open when she saw Harry. "Wait, so, um, what?"

"Apparently," Harry said, "the fourth year Gryffindor girls have taken it upon themselves to make me popular. And I quote Mary there."

"_Awe_-some," Dakota squealed. "So, like, what? Etiquette? Pop culture? Music? People manipulating? What do you want to learn, Harry?"

"Miss Robbins," Madame Pomfrey called from her office. "Please keep your voice down."

"Let's go," Able said, pulling Harry out of the common room. He and Harry headed towards the Gryffindor common room. Demelza and Dakota followed, having a hurried, loud conversation about the plans for Harry's curriculum.

At the common room entrance, Able paused. "Mate, you are in so much trouble."

Harry just nodded and whispered the password to the Fat Lady. The door swung open and immediately. Harry stopped. It seemed like all the Gryffindor girls were just _staring_ at him. And the common room…? All the chairs had been pushed against the walls, and in place of the fireplace, a giant jukebox looking thing towered over the room. Emma MacDonald stood by the jukebox, looking for all the world like a queen in charge of a small kingdom.

Harry gulped. Behind him, Able stepped through the doorway and simply stopped. "Mate, you are in _so_ much trouble."

"I _know_," Harry groaned.

Demelza and Dakota tumbled into the common room and instantly joined the flock of girls in the common room. A bunch of bewildered looking boys – and Hermione – sat in the chairs and stared at the excited girls. Percy Weasley, the stuck up, all for rules headboy, was nowhere to be seen.

"Quiet, please," Emma called and silence fell, almost immediately. "We're having a house-wide dance party. And it's mandatory, unless you can prove to Sarah that you've got something you need to do. And, you prefects, don't worry, we've cleared this with McGonagall." No one said anything. Hermione looked close to horrified. "And don't worry if you don't think you can dance. We'll be starting with some traditional wizard dances and teaching them to those who don't know, followed be learning the waltz and a few other classic dances. We'll just have fun towards the end. Capice?" No one said anything.

It occurred to Harry that he'd never noticed how much Emma MacDonald was the queen bee of Gryffindor. Huh.

"Let's start with Helga's Reel. Partner up, everyone." Emma commanded, and people did.

They seemed to have already worked out who'd be partners with Harry, or, at least, that's how it seemed when Katie moved forward until she stood on Harry's right side. It was even further confirmed when Katie said, "They said I'd get the first dance with you, 'cause you know me best." She was grinning. Able paired with Demelza, Queenie with Lee Jordan, Mary with Neville, and everyone else paired off. A few people, like Ron and Hermione stayed to the side. Even the first years were participating.

Emma and a few of the other older girls, including Angelia Johnson, were directed people into two long rows, one of girls, one of boys. They walked through the complicated twists and turns, before Emma flicked the music on with her wand and the dance began. Harry found it surprisingly easy to keep up with the smooth, rhythmic pace of the music as almost the entirety of the Gryffindor common room swayed up and down, back and forth. The music rang through everyone, until at last, Emma and her dance partner sashayed through the group and ended up at the front of the line. The music stopped.

Emma and her partner were staring at each other, blushing. Fred and George started the catcalling. Harry joined in, along with everyone else. The chanting of "kiss, kiss, kiss!" grew to a fullblown wail before Emma and her partner leaned in and shared something a little more that caste. Harry joined in the cheering. It felt great. "It's traditionally a wedding dance," Katie whispered into Harry's ear. "Angelina suggested it, 'cause Emma and William are pretty close to engaged as it is. Isn't it adorable?"

Harry laughed.

"There's been some family problems though," Katie said, still grinning at Emma and William. "Emma's parents don't like that William's a muggleborn, even if there'd nothing like the Slytherin blood purists. Mary says that William's been talking about giving Emma up so as not to tear her away from her family. It's so sweet." Harry really didn't understand. But then, Katie was a girl. Katie was gossiping. He didn't think he was supposed to understand.

"Line up again! Different partners!" The line jumbled and mixed up a lot. Harry found himself opposite Eliza Kirke. Where the fourth year girls claiming him or something? That was a little more than creepy. Walking through the next dance, still a reel, but this time a dance called Layla's Staff, took even less time than Hegla's Reel. This dance was even more fun. Harry lost himself in the moves in the music as he and Eliza twirled through the people. It was an awesome dance. At three different points, the males used their wands and levitated their partners into the air. Emma only let those in third year or higher do the wand work. It was pretty close to awesome.

When the song ended, they ran through the dance again, and it worked nearly close to flawlessly. On the last lift, Lee Jordan's control dropped and Dakota tumbled to the ground. Everyone laughed. After two more reels, the Weasley twins showed up bearing a bunch of different snacks and drinks. They laid out a table in the corner of the room and took turns watching the food. Dancing reels continued.

Harry danced with all of the fourth year girls, Parvati, Lavender, Angelina, Alicia and a few others he wasn't really sure of their names. They learnt a simple waltz, a more complex waltz, and a few other dances that Emma decided. When the music turned loud and modern, Harry worked his way over to the drink table and accepted a glass of punch from Lee. The older boy had a silly grin on his face. Harry smirked and moved off to the side.

Almost immediately, Ron joined him. "How awful is this. Wouldn't you rather be flying or something?"

"I think it's fun," Harry said, taking a sip of his punch. He really, truly did. He wasn't even trying to like it. "Why don't you like it?"

Ron shrugged. "What's up with you, mate?"

"I'm trying to make some more friends," Harry admitted. Ron looked a bit affronted. "It just makes sense, you know, having more friends and a stronger ally system. More support. If more people know me for who I am, they'll be less likely to think I'm the heir of Slytherin or something like that again."

Ron stared. "But. Why? I'm your friend, Harry."

"Yeah, but seriously, how many people in our house can you name? This is supposed to be our family. I'm gonna make it my family."

Mary showed up at that moment. "Aw, how sweet." Ron pouted. "C'mon, Harry." Mary grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the floor. "We need to show you how to party!"

It was way more than a little fun.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Just before six o'clock, Emma called a halt to the dance party. The fifty or so Gryffindors all moved to their respective dormitories to shower and change. Harry spent most of that interim period talking with Neville and Able, who were actually close friends. They were sitting on a few of the plushy arm chairs. Neville looked more engaged than Harry was used to seeing him.

"Oh, Neville, I'm joining your Ancient Runes class next week," Harry added, in a break in the conversation. "It looks really cool."

"It is!" Neville said, his whole face widening and relaxing as the conversation continued.

"Runes is awesome," said a slightly older boy.

"Harry," Able said, "This is Kenneth Towler, fifth year. Kenneth, Harry Potter's making an effort to establish social connections."

Kenneth laughed. Harry elbowed Able. "Seriously? I don't need everyone knowing the ulterior motive for me being really friendly."

"You do know there's 54 Gryffindors right now," Kenneth said, with a slight smirk. "And there's 203 total students. To get to know all of them, you're going to have to be _really_ friendly. And then if you count everyone else in the school, you've got a big workload ahead of you, Potter."

"Call me Harry, please."

The four boys left the common room with a clump of other Gryffindors, all headed for the Great Hall. They filled the Gryffindor table pretty quickly, as Harry sat with Neville, Able and Kenneth. Ron pushed into the seat beside Harry, and two of the second year boys joined them when Neville waved them over. Almost thankfully, neither of the second years was Colin Creevey. At times during dinner, Harry would look up and see Mary or Katie or Dakota or Demelza or Eliza or Queenie all looking at the group of boys with a smile. Apparently, while they had definitely gotten Emma involved, the six fourth year girls were the unchallenged queens of the education-Harry-project.

Harry, Kenneth and Neville talked a lot about Ancient Runes, but Able was taking Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy, so he just listened. The second years interjected a few comments, but not much. Harry met them as Geo and Andy, but didn't catch their full and last names. After a while, Ron actually spoke. "But Harry, you aren't taking Ancient Runes."

Neville looked confused, but Harry answered quickly enough. "I dropped Divination because it's pointless. I couldn't decide between Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, so McGonagall said I could take both." Ron gaped. The two older boys hid smiles at Ron's expression. When desert came, Kenneth excused himself to go to a prefect meeting and the conversation turned more to the second years.

Geo was simply infatuated with Quidditch and Ron seemed to brighten a bit as Andy proved to be a Cannon's fan. It was easy enough to discuss the sport, and argue over what the house teams would be like this year. The Gryffindor team was the clear favorite, as all seven members had been on the team for at least two years. Not to mention the three chasers worked so well, they were already talking about going pro together after Katie's seventh year. All in all, Harry's evening ended well-full of food and good conversation.


	3. Campaign of Sociality

Chapter Three

Campaign of Sociality

Waking from a nightmare wasn't anything new. Harry blinked into the pre-morning hazy and instantly missed his owl. Hedwig had stopped by last night and sat on his shoulder while he read the first couple of chapters in his Ancient Runes text. His clock said it was almost five thirty. Harry rolled out of bed, pulled out a dress robe, grabbed his textbook and headed for the common room. It wasn't often empty this early, but it was always quiet.

He hated that particular nightmare. The green light. What had to be his mom's scream. Over. And over. And over. Voldemort coming. Saying those dreaded words. The green light. The scream. And then nothing but his uncle and his aunt. Again, and again with no end. Green lights. Screams. It was terrifying.

Sure enough, there were only three other people in the room. Emma, William, and what looked like a first year girl. Emma tossed him a smile and Harry waved, but he moved towards the clump of chairs the little girl was sitting in. She looked at him, and half smiled, but more like she wished to be left alone. Harry understood the feeling. He cracked open the textbook to finish reading chapter four.

It was a peaceful calm. Emma and William were talking to each other, but they were tucked into a corner and weren't talking loudly. The girl just stared into the fire. After ten or so, Harry put down the book and sighed. "Bad dream?"

The girl shrugged. "I'm used to them."

"I know the feeling."

She snorted. Her fingers clenched around the hem of her pajama bottoms that looked like they were three inches short for her. "No one does."

"What's the problem?"

"It's nothing you could fix."

Harry shrugged. "No, but it might help you to talk about it." That sounded really, really, really hypocritical.

She didn't respond right away. Harry started to reach for his book when she mumbled, "You wouldn't get it. You're Harry Potter. You're famous. Nothing bad ever happens to you. That's what Lily told me."

_Socially adept_, Harry reminded himself, _sometimes means sharing something personal. And terrifying._ Making a snap decision, Harry rolled up his left sleeve to just below his shoulder. On his arm was a misshapen burn scar. "It's from my aunt's frying pan. I overcooked the bacon once, and she hit me. It hurt," Harry whispered. He desperately hoped his voice was low enough so that Emma and William couldn't hear. "And that wasn't the worst."

The girl's blue eyes were wide and full of tears. "Have you… has your aunt ever belted you?"

"My uncle did," Harry said, looking away from her. It hurt.

She nodded. "My dad does, when he's drunk, you know. Mum never stops him. Sometimes she's even worse." Harry slid off the chair and sprawled on the plush carpet in front of the fire. He gestured for the girl to join him and she came readily. She tucked herself into his side and shook with pent up tears. "Why'd they name me Paradise if they don't want me?"

"I don't know," Harry whispered, pulling her in closer. He felt tears prickle in his own eyes as Paradise cried into his shoulder. A few minutes later, he heard Emma and William moving and looked up to see Emma standing over them, concern and worry etched into her entire face.

Emma knelt down by Harry. "What's wrong?"

Paradise jerked, pulled her head out of Harry's shoulder, and stared at Emma like a deer caught in headlights. Emma pulled away a little, looking confused. "She's been abused." Harry expected her to pull away, but she just shifted, keeping Harry between herself Emma. He wanted nothing more than to go find Paradise's parents and hurt them, like he wanted to hurt the Dursleys.

"She told you?" Emma whispered, pain and rage replacing the confusion in her face.

"I…" _Sharing._ "I showed her my scars."

Emma leapt to her feet. Rage simply radiated from her. "Both of you?" Paradise winced at her voice and Harry forced himself not to shy away. "That's… that's barbaric." She turned. "Will, go get Professor McGonagall. We're going to resolve this, _now._"

William left the common room.

"What's wrong?" Someone asked from the bottom of the girls' dormitory stairs. Harry recognized the girl as one of the fourth year girls, but… um… right. Eliza Kirke. He had seriously learned too many names yesterday. Paradise pulled away from Harry and returned to her chair. She huddled into it, her knees folded to her chest and her face buried in her knees. Her brown hair was tangled and her pajamas tattered. She made a sad sight.

Emma just shrugged. "Some problems we need to work out with McGonagall. Do you think you could keep everyone upstairs for a few minutes?"

Eliza hesitated. "Um, sure, at least for the girls."

"I'll get William to keep the boys upstairs when he gets back."

Eliza disappeared up the girls' staircase.

William and Professor McGonagall entered through… it wasn't through the portrait hole. Did McGonagall's office have a special door that led straight to the Gryffindor common room? That seemed more than likely. "Miss MacDonald, what is the emergency?"

Without being told, William moved to the stairs to the boys' dormitory and took up sentry duty. Emma gestured to Harry.

Harry swallowed and gazed up at his stern professor. "I… I came down early this morning because I couldn't sleep and Paradise was here, just staring at the fire. I asked her if she had a bad dream and she said I wouldn't get that, that I was famous, that nothing bad had happened to me." Harry winced. "I showed her a… a scar."

"Harry…" Emma whispered.

"A scar that my aunt gave me," Harry said, "with a hot frying pan." He refused to look up. He didn't need to look up. "Paradise asked me if my aunt belted me. I told her my uncle did. She said her parents abused her. She cried. Emma asked what was wrong. I told her. William went and got you." Harry looked up.

Emma was shaking, her fist stuck in her mouth. McGonagall was white. Beyond white. "Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, her voice weak. "Why did you not report this before?

"It didn't… It didn't seem like that big a deal."

Emma whimpered. McGonagall's mouth thinned into a stern glare. She muttered something indecipherable, but spoke gently when after the muttering was done. "Harry, please go get dressed. Emma, if you'd see to it that Miss Aster gets dressed. I'd like you'd both to accompany me to the hospital wing." Harry got to his feet. Emma jerked into motion and moved to Paradise. The little girl refused to respond to her.

Harry reached over and touched her arm. "Hey, Paradise, go with Emma, okay? She's not going to hurt you."

Paradise rolled out of her shell and reluctantly let Emma guide her up the dormitory stairs. Harry ignored the calculating look that McGonagall shot him and simply headed for his own dormitory. William let him pass. It took him less than five minutes to slip into his school uniform, attend to morning hygiene, and head back down to the common room. It wasn't even five yet. No one else was up. William didn't say anything as he passed back into the common room. Emma and Paradise were already there.

Paradise instantly latched onto Harry. She was a full head shorted than Harry, and Harry himself was abnormally small. McGonagall pointed them, not through the portrait hole, but through a concealed door that Harry assumed led to her office. It didn't. They ended up straight in the hospital wing antechamber. Harry absolutely loved magic. And Hogwarts. He really did. The place was awesome.

Madam Pomfrey scurried out of her office the moment they stepped into the hospital wing. "Minerva, what's wrong?"

"Poppy, can you check these children for abuse signs, please?"

Poppy's eyes narrowed, and she pointed Harry and Paradise to different beds. Harry stared at the flooring of the hospital wing as Poppy cast a number of different colored spells over both him and Paradise. She looked so uncomfortable with the whole thing. After an examination that lasted twenty minutes for the both of them, Madam Pomfrey pulled McGonagall aside.

"Harry?" Paradise whispered, when the adults were out of earshot. "What's going to happen now?"

"We're going to make sure you're taken care of, okay Paradise?" Harry said, trying to infuse his voice with confidence. He really didn't want to think about his aunt and uncle. If he could avoid thinking about it during the year, only the summers were ruined. She nodded and fiddled with her robes. After a few moments, Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall came back out.

"Harry, Paradise," McGonagall said, "Hogwarts is a boarding school, so there is no immediate danger, but we do need to find out how to fix your situations. You both show signs of perpetual abuse and malnourishment. It is our job to rectify that. Paradise, we're going to find you a new home, okay? You're going to get a new family that isn't going to hurt you. And Harry, well, there's several people that will be punished for you, and we'll rectify your own living conditions. You will both need to take nourishment potions for the next couple of weeks and those will be provided at each breakfast. You will both attend a follow up visit with Madam Pomfrey as she attempt to rectify some of the damage you have suffered. Is that agreeable to you?"

Harry nodded. Paradise, seemingly taking her cue from Harry, nodded as well. That did not go unnoticed by the two professors. "Harry, I'm trusting that you can get yourself and Miss Aster back to the common room?"

"Yes Professor," Harry said, jumping down from the bed and heading for the door. Paradise followed him. They two of them walked in silence until they were a ways away from the common room. "Magic is amazing, isn't it Paradise?"

"I love it," Paradise whispered. "I was so grateful my mum said I could go. The owls are a little weird."

Harry smiled. "I love my owl. Her name's Hedwig. She's a brilliant snowy owl, and I think she's my familiar, because sometimes, we even understand each other."

Paradise's eyes sparkled. "I love magic!"

With magic, the world didn't seem half bad.

o.o.o.o.o.o

"Harry, can I talk to you?"

He looked up from his Runes textbook and smiled at his friend. "Sure Hermione, what's up?"

"What… happened? You've been really quiet and withdrawn the first two weeks of school, and I get the Sirius Black thing, sure, but this last weekend, spending time with Neville, the dancing, the girls and such like, and then that first year… what's up with all that?"

Harry closed his book and gave his friend his whole attention. "I made a choice, Hermione. I couldn't keep holding myself back. Trouble comes for me, whether I want it or not. Voldemort. Black. The dementors. I've survived on sheer luck and good friends—" Hermione gave him a smile at the flattery "—and other circumstances, but I can't do that anymore. I've got to prepare myself for what's ahead of me. I dropped Divination and now I'm taking Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. And, well, I decided to be more social and Katie and Eliza and the rest decide they could help me do that. The dance party was their doing. It's a conspiracy."

Hermione grinned. "So, you're actually going to take academics more seriously?"

"I'm going to try," Harry admitted. "I've gained a lot of bad habits and I recognize that'll be hard work to break them, but I'm going to try. Able and Neville have already promised to help me with that. And Neville's teaching me some awesome things about pureblood culture and stuff. It's really interesting. He's helping me figure a lot of things out."

"Neville?" Hermione whispered, as if unsure of herself.

"He's actually really smart," Harry said. Should he feel bad that he was enjoying Hermione's uncertainty? "And Able's just plain cool. So are Kenneth and Lee and just a lot of people that I barely knew existed before this weekend!"

"Oh." She seemed to pause and think things over before shrugging. "Well, I'm proud of you Harry. Can I… Can I still be your friend?"

"Hermione!" Harry said, "Of course!"

She looked unnerved… "It's just… you and Ron…"

"Ron's an idiot. He just insulted Neville, and then Paradise and Lily and a lot of other people, to their faces. I called him out on it. Queenie says he acts like Cormac McLaggen a lot, and no one really likes Cormac McLaggen."

Hermione's eyes were wide. She blinked a couple of times before grinning. "Okay. Want me to look over an essay or something?"

"Sure. You can let me know if this Potion's essay is better than the last one you read."

"We didn't—"

"I rewrote the last one, because it isn't due until tomorrow and it really did need to be better and everything."

Hermione gaped. Mechanically, she took the offered essay and started reading it, her red quill poised. Harry picked up his textbook, but only half read as he watched Hermione read his essay. She noted a lot fewer mistakes than ordinary. That was probably really, really, really good. After about ten minutes, Hermione laid the parchment down and looked over at her best friend. "Harry, that's like, really great. You even made a few points that I missed." She looked like she wanted to go change her essay.

"Just don't go and change yours," Harry said, "'cause you write brilliant essays."

Hermione blushed.

Harry had only just picked up his book again when Paradise ran over, with two of her friends – first years really did make close friends fast – behind her. "Hi Harry," Paradise said, "can we ask you a question?" His newest friend was a lot surer of herself around girls her own age, and in the full daylight.

"Sure," Harry said, putting his book aside. "Paradise, Lily, Vicky, this Hermione Granger. Hermione, these are Victoria, Paradise, and Lily, the Terrible Trio. You'd better watch out for them. They're trouble."

The first years giggled. "No we aren't!" Lily said, her face full of laughter. "We just wanted to know, is it really true you killed a basilisk last year? That's what Andy Kirke said, but we don't believe him."

"He really did," Hermione said, grinning down at the three girls. "With the Sword of Gryffindor."

"No way!" Lily and Vicky squealed.

"What's the sword of Gryffindor?" Paradise asked, unsure.

Harry smiled. "The Sword of Gryffindor is a goblin made sword. They made it for the founder of our house, way back when Hogwarts was first young. It's a really strong blade."

"That's so cool," Paradise said, as her friends kept squealing.

Hermione nodded. "Harry's a cool person."

Vicky cocked her head to the side. "Are you his girlfriend?"

Hermione blushed again. "What? No!"

Lily and Vicky exchanged exulted looks. "That means he's still available," Lily said. Harry blushed bright red. "Harry, you'll wait for me, won't you dearie?" She batted her eyelids in an exaggerated manner before breaking down into giggles and running off, chased by Vicky and Paradise. Harry stared after them, blinking.

"Well," Hermione said when she recovered cognitive brain function. "At least they aren't totally starstruck with you."

Harry bashed his head against his textbook.

"That's not healthy, Harry," Kenneth Towler said, as he claimed the arm chair next to Hermione. He offered his hand to the girl. "I don't think we've met. Kenneth Towler, cynical participant in Potter's campaign to get to know everyone."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said, "Longtime friend."

"I hate my life," Harry grumbled, as he opened up the textbook again. "The two of you are not allowed to team up against me, okay?"

"How's the campaign, going, Harry?" Kenneth asked, a jovial lilt in his voice. "Name the entirety of three years."

"Katie, Cormac, Able, Eliza, Mary, Queenie, Demelza and Dakota, year four. Kenneth, Lee, Fred, George, Alicia, and Angelina, year five. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Pavarti, and Padma, year three. Give me a break! It's been a day and a half!"

Kenneth chuckled. "Wrong. You're missing a fifth year. You know that there's only three sixth years? Why didn't you just name them?"

"'Cause I don't know them," Harry said. "Can I please finish reading this textbook?"

"Nope," Kenneth said, reaching across Hermione and plucking the textbook from Harry's hands.

Harry glared at him. "Hermione, give me your Runes textbook."

"Hermione, don't give him your Runes textbook."

"Hermione, give me your Runes textbook."

"Hermione, don't give him your Runes textbook."

"Hermione!"

"Hermione!"

"Hermione!"

"Hermione!"

"Hermione!"

"Hermione!"

Hermione just stared. "I think I just fell through the rabbit hole." She got up, gathered her stuff, and walked away.

Kenneth grinned. "I'll give you your book back when you've met our sixth years."

"Fine," Harry said. He really was turning into Hermione. Seriously. Having to do someone's bidding just to get a textbook back? It was ridiculous. Although, he really, really did need to finish the Runes reading before his first class tomorrow. He got up, stalked over to the table where Mary and Eliza were studying. "Who are the sixth years?"

Mary pointed to a table in one of the many common room corners. "They aren't all there. Ruth has metamorphmagus training with some auror trainee who also has the skill."

"Thanks Mary," Harry said. Working up his courage, he marched over to a table where two of the older Hogwarts students sat. They both looked at him when he sat down. "Sorry. My textbook is being held hostage until I meet you guys."

The girl laughed. "Harry Potter's Campaign of Sociality?"

"It has a _name_ now?" Harry griped. "I'm gonna _kill_ Kenneth!"

"I'm Temperance Regan and this is Zachary Wallar." They both looked like good guys, but then, they were Gryffindors and pretty much every current Gryffindor, excepting Percy, Cormac, and right now, Ron, seemed like okay people. Although, Harry reserved the right to change his mind.

"Great, thanks. Now do you know what room Ruth has her training, 'cause I don't think Kenneth will allow her lesson as a reasonable excuse." The two sixth years just stared at him.

Temperance blinked. "I think they're in one of the transfiguration rooms."

"Awesome." Harry spun away from the table and headed for the portrait hole. He looked over his shoulder, just long enough to see Kenneth grinning at him. _That git._ Although, Kenneth was a hard person to dislike. And… he did share a dorm room with the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. And he had survived four years and bit. That had to count for something. Harry jumped through the portrait hole and headed for the transfiguration classrooms. There weren't many, well, only seven that were actually in official use, but there was a whole transfiguration wing with a lot of unused classrooms. It was like that for every subject.

Luckily enough, Ruth and her tutor were in the sixth year transfiguration classroom. Harry knocked. The trainer, who had bright yellow hair that stuck about a foot up into the air, gestured him inside. Ruth looked mostly normal. Well. Mostly. "Um. Sorry. But a textbook is being held hostage and I've got to meet all the Gryffindor sixth years before I get it back. Hi. I'm Harry."

Ruth smirked. "I'm Ruth Turpin. Tell Kenneth he really should stop torturing third years."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I've known him for what, a day? And even I know he won't listen to that."

"Too true. Harry Potter, this is metamorphmagus, awesomeness auror, Unknown-first-name Tonks. You can add her to your Campaign of Sociality."

Harry ran from the room, nothing short of screaming.

Tonks blinked. "_That's_ Harry Potter?"

"Oh don't worry. He only went insane this weekend."


	4. Protector

Chapter Four

Protector

Monday morning rose with a flurry of nerves for Harry. Last night, when Kenneth had finally given him the textbook back, the older boy said that popularity was not something easily kept, and while the Gryffindors liked him well enough, he'd likely face a lot of problems with people from the other houses. Mary had been quick to jump in, ever so helpful, and remind Harry that he was already famous and a lot of people half-worshiped him, so it wouldn't be as bad as Kenneth promised. Harry really hadn't felt better after that.

At lunch he sat with Hermione, Neville, and Able, and tried to find time to eat between the everlasting strings of people who stopped by to say hi. Kenneth, Geo, Andy, William, Emma, Mary, Eliza, Demelza, Dakota, Katie, Seamus, Dean, Angelina, Alicia, Fred, George, Lee, Paradise, Lily, Vicky, Queenie, Lavender, Pavarti, Ruth, Oliver, and pretty much every Gryffindor he'd talked to this school year said good morning or something of the sort. Apparently, and thankfully, news of Harry Potter's Campaign of Sociality hadn't spread to the other houses.

When Katie and Queenie actually sat down with them, Harry managed to ask, "How do I handle my classes, and other people, and stuff?"

"Just be outgoing and friendly," Katie said, "like you've been this whole weekend. Talk to people in the hallways, before class begins, after class. Maybe arrange to meet with a few people in the library for a study group. Act natural."

Harry stuffed another sausage in his mouth and chewed. None of this felt natural. Just… far… to… many… _people!_ And everyone at the staff table seemed tenser than normal. Besides Dumbledore, but Dumbledore was the exception.

At the end of breakfast, Hermione, Neville and Harry headed for the Potions' wing. It wasn't a particularly fun way to open on Monday mornings. Ron joined them, just before class began, and in those few moments, he talked very loudly and only at Harry, as if he was trying to monopolize Harry's attention. It was really annoying. And it made Harry feel really, really bad. Ron had been his best friend the past two years, but if he wasn't willing to share Harry with other people, that was just, weird. Maybe the whole chamber thing had changed Harry more than it had affected Ron. Maybe having Professor Sinistra trying to help him had changed Harry more than it had changed Ron. Maybe this whole thing with the multiple patroni… A grin split across Harry's face. He still needed to tell Professor Lupin about that. Professor Snape started class and Harry buried himself in his brewing.

When class ended, Harry put his textbook in his bag and headed for the door with Neville.

Ron seemed especially slighted that Harry wasn't walking with him. And he said so, vocally. Harry ignored him. It was bad, all through Herbology when Ron tried to monopolize Harry's attention and Harry tried to avoid him and slight him at every possibility. At the end of Herbology, Ron got even more upset when Harry wouldn't walk with him to their study period. It made Harry feel very on edge; he didn't even have a study period anymore!

Neville shifted, a little uneasy as he and Harry headed for their Runes class. He didn't say anything. It was a distinct impression that people disproved about how he treated Ron. Why did it matter? Ron was acting like a git! They should be casting those silent and condemning looks at Ron, not Harry. Although, they probably were. "So, who's in the class?"

Neville started a little. For all their talk about Runes the past few days, Harry hadn't actually asked that question. "There's only ten students, well, eleven now; myself; Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode, both from Noble Houses, both Slytherins; Mandy Brocklehurst and Anthony Goldstein, both from Noble and Ancient Houses, in Ravenclaw; Steven Cornfoot and Kevin Entwhistle, Ravenclaws purebloods; Megan Jones and Wayne Hopkins, Hufflepuff muggleborns; and Michael Corner, Ravenclaw halfblood." Neville raised an eyebrow, as if prompting Harry in what to say next.

"So," Harry mumbled, "I'm on equal footing with you, Mandy and Anth-"

"No! You and I are both Noble and Most Ancient. We're the tier above Mandy and Anthony." Neville pushed open the door. "Although, as I told you, my Gram thinks that a lot of the pureblood stuff is rubbish. Still though, you should know this."

"It's not to change how I treat people," Harry said. He really like talking with Neville, and he got the sense that Neville really did seem to enjoy teaching Harry something. And this was the kind of thing that really could help him tolerate Malfoy. Maybe. Not likely. "Unless, like, I'm at one of those formal dances that Dakota mentioned."

"The balls," Neville said with a wince. "Be grateful you're in school. There's one a month, and then an extra one every holiday. It rotates, who hosts the balls. The House of Longbottom is hosting a Christmas ball this year. We'd be honored for you to attend."

Harry blinked. "Um, of course—"

"No. No. No!" Neville said, a grin breaking across his face. He dropped his bag and claimed a seat in the middle of the room. "The proper etiquette is for you to say, 'Scion of the House of Longbottom, I would be honored to attend.' Some people will hold you to it. But, you only use the Scion part because we're on equal standing. To people on an official lower tier, like Malfoy or Anthony, you'd say 'Anthony of the House of Goldstein, I would be honored to attend.'" Harry gaped. Neville smirked. "Yup, the Malfoy's are only Noble and Ancient, at least officially. They've amassed enough money that they're treated with a truly high level of respect, but no court would convict you for saying 'Draco of the House of Malfoy—' And he'd _have_ to call you, 'Honored Lord of the House of Potter,' because you really should be the Lord and everything."

"That's brilliant," Harry whispered.

"I've never had the courage do it," Neville admitted.

Two Hufflepuffs entered the room. From what Harry knew and what Neville had just told him, they had to be Megan and Wayne. He jumped to his feet and stuck out a hand. "Hi. I'm Harry Potter."

They stared at him.

"I dropped Divination for this class, because seriously, that class doesn't make any sense. And the teacher hates me."

Megan chuckled. "Hi, Harry, I'm Megan and this is Wayne. We've never really talked much—"

"I know," Harry said, "however, it has apparently become my ambition to get to know everyone in the school this year. So I only kind of know the people in my own year, and I figured it would be a good time to rectify that."

"Makes sense," Megan said. Wayne nodded.

The Ravenclaw boys entered, and to Harry's exultation, he could tell which was Kevin, Steven, Michael and Anthony. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Mandy entered, not far behind the boys, and before Harry could do anything, the two Slytherin girls entered. He knew Millicent, so the other had to be Tracey. Harry closed his eyes, trying to fuse everyone into his mind.

"Potter?" Millicent said, confused. "Did you, like, just pick up this class?"

"Yes."

"He's embarking on a campaign to get to know everyone," Megan said, a smirk evident.

"Why is everyone calling it a campaign?"

Steven grinned. "Seamus mentioned that. How's it going Potter?"

"Well, I know of all of you, I think."

Kevin raised a hand, "I've never had a conversation with you."

"Which is why I've got a problem that needs rectifying," Harry responded. He slid back into his chair as the various people around him also took seats. Neville elbowed him and discretely gestured to Anthony and Mandy. The two of them did look a bit uncomfortable. "Ooooh," Harry said. "So, apparently social custom dictates that I request you all treat me as an equal. But, um, I sort of forgot the right words to do that. This whole House thing is a little weird."

Anthony and Mandy stared. Millicent stared. Tracey laughed.

With that, Professor Babbling entered the classroom and what would quickly become Harry's favorite class began.

o.o.o.o.o.o

"Harry James Potter!" He winced as his favorite professor shrieked at him. "_Why_ did Minerva have to tell me that your aunt and uncle abused you? _Harry_!" It was their weakly Monday evening, and it was the first she'd actually gotten to yell at him after hearing about the Sunday morning fiasco.

Harry looked down at his quill. "I don't know. I guess I just… didn't want to stand out more than I already did."

Aurora Sinistra collapsed across the table from him and stared at him, her chin resting on her folded hands. She sighed. "We had a staff meeting about it. Dumbledore, he… tried to convince Minerva and Poppy that it wasn't a big deal; that you should just go back to the Dursleys." Harry bit his lip and struggled to keep his emotions inside. "It's ridiculous. I believe Minerva and Severus talked him out of it, but he wanted to place you with the Weasley's or some other family that we know is completely loyal to him. Harry, we don't think you should trust Dumbledore."

"He's a bit scary sometimes," Harry said, as he wrote another line in a Transfiguration essay. "Do you think he really could have manipulated the whole thing first year?"

"Almost assuredly," Sinistra muttered. Her favorite student was hurting and she could really do nothing about it. It was odd, though. She wasn't normally the kind of professor to be a student's favorite teacher. But she'd found Harry sleep-walking and tormented by a nightmare towards the beginning of second year and he'd trusted her ever since. He had been an uphill battle to get him to be more social, and the finally does and this whole bombshell…! "Remus Lupin was very upset with Dumbledore. He was a dear friend of your parents, you know."

"He told me," Harry said. "Oh, and he taught me the Patronus charm!"

… Blink.

… Blink.

"What?"

Harry pulled out his wand and said, "_Expecto patronum,_" and out galloped a fully corporal, silver colt with a fuzzy mane and long tail and what even looked like a soft coat. Sinistra stared. Harry should so not be capable of doing that, but then, if anyone could, it was so likely Harry who could. The colt nuzzled Harry, galloped in a circle through the air in the observatory, before dissipating with into silver mist on Harry's command.

"Harry, that's beautiful," Sinistra said, when she regained her voice.

"Professor Lupin said that no one could manage multiple patroni. Do you think he's right?"

"Harry, if anyone can manage multiple patroni, it's you."

His eyes sparkled. "Can I try?"

Sinistra grinned. "I'd rather you try under supervision than on your own."

He had the decency to blush. He cast the spell with ease and the colt galloped forth. He focused on the same memory and whispered the words again. "_Expecto patronum._" Nothing happened. What if he used a different memory? He thought about the stars and how beautiful and fascinating the stars were… He thought about learning about the stars… "_Expecto patronum._" His eyes were closed. He could feel the magic pouring through his wand and twisting into… into… Harry opened his eyes and saw a beautiful, majestic silver eagle floating just above his colt. _No way!_

Could he cast more? Harry focused in on another feeling. How awesome Professor Babbling's class was. How connected that group of students seemed. Being connected with his housemates. Feeling content and a part of a group and just plain friendship. "_Expecto patronum._" A silver snake slithered through the air until it wrapped itself around the colt's neck. Sinistra just stared. "You should… you should stop now Harry."

He looked up at her, pure joy filling his brilliant green eyes. "I can make multiple patroni!" He flicked his wand and the snake dissipated. With another flick, the eagle evaporated into mist. The colt whinnied and dissolved itself. "Professor…!"

"You are extraordinary, Harry," Sinistra said. "In more ways than just this. You just need to find that power, unlock it, and learn how to use it. Have you tried to cast the spell against an actual dementor yet?"

Harry shook his head. "Professor Lupin said he was going to locate a boggart to use, but that was only two days ago."

"You learned this in a day?" Sinistra said, mostly to herself.

"First try," Harry replied. He picked up his quill and started writing as if it was no big deal.

Sinistra sighed. That boy. He really, really was extraordinary. Maybe Lupin had gotten through to him somehow… no, that wasn't it. She'd been trying for a year to get Harry to push himself and he hadn't. It had taken some threat to motivate him. It had to be the dementors. Those blasted dementors were responsible for these changes in Harry. Well, at least they were good for one thing. The door to the classroom opened and Able Vane stuck his head in. Sinistra liked Able. He was a dedicated student who enjoyed astronomy, unlike the majority of the students in Hogwarts.

"Professor, Harry," Able said, "excuse me, but Paradise Aster is in the hospital wing and she won't let anyone near her. Emma sent people out looking for Harry."

He paled. "What happened to her?"

"A Slytherin seventh year decided to pick on her and a few of the other first year girls. Paradise got the worst of it, but you should have seen McGonagall go after the Slytherin. It was carnage."

Harry did not look reassured. "Harry," Sinistra said, "All the classrooms have a direct link to the hospital wing. Paradise is going to be fine." She helped him to his feet and led him and Able over to the magical door that linked each and every classroom to the hospital wing antechamber. The antechamber was pretty busy when they arrived, but Emma MacDonald snatched Harry from the crowd almost instantly and nearly yanked him into the actually hospital wing.

Harry took in his surroundings just as fast as one needed to if suddenly thrust into a battle zone. Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were in the middle of the room, looking helpless. Lily and two Hufflepuff girls who were probably also first years were on beds behind Madame Pomfrey, terrifying. And Paradise… Paradise was huddled in a corner of the room, screaming for it all to stop, for the pain to go away.

"Paradise!" Harry said, moving towards her. "Paradise, calm down!" She seemed to recognize his voice, just barely. Her screams quieted for a second. "Paradise, it's okay. It's me, Harry. I'm not to hurt you. You're safe now." She screamed, but then stopped and looked out from her corner. Her eyes were wide with fear.

"You said they wouldn't hurt," Paradise whispered. "Harry, he hurt me."

"And he's getting in trouble for it," Harry said. "Look, Paradise, Madame Pomfrey isn't going to hurt you. She's here to help you. Let her help you."

Paradise shook her head. "I don't want to get hurt."

"I know, I hate it too."

She uncurled a little and shifted just enough so she was out of her corner. "I'm… sorry, Harry."

"What for?"

Paradise moved to one of the beds and looked at Madame Pomfrey, obviously giving the okay to receive treatment. Harry turned and moved over to Lily and Vicky. He gave both the girls a hug. Vicky whispered, "What's wrong with Para?"

"You're going to have to trust her to tell you that when she's ready," Harry said. "Don't pressure her, okay?" Both Lily and Vicky nodded. All three Gryffindors missed how critically Professor McGonagall was observing them.

"Harry," Lily muttered, "Paradise protected us. When that boy came after us, she stood in front. She, like, protected us. We're Gryffindors, but she's the brave one! How can we be brave like her?"

Harry really, really wished he didn't have to answer that question. What did he say? What should he say? "Sometimes, Lily, bravery is knowing when to run away. And you'll find that bravery." Lily and Vicky nodded. Harry really wanted to do nothing more than curl up on one of the hospital beds and pretend that this had never happened, but there were still to the two Hufflepuffs. He moved over to their bedsides. "Hey, you two okay?"

They nodded. "You're Harry Potter." The one who spoke looked a lot like Oliver Wood. Like, a miniature female version of Oliver Wood.

"I know I am. What are your names?"

"I'm Diana Wood." Yup. Little Wood. "And this is Harrietta Turpin. We've been friends forever. Is Paradise going to be okay?"

There was Lisa Turpin in his year, and then Ruth… where there other Turpins and Woods in the castle was well? Hm. Harry really did need to get to know people. "Paradise will be fine."

"Harry!"

Harry turned away from the first years, to see Emma calling him from the doorway to the hospital wing. He trotted over to the Gryffindor queen bee. "Am I in trouble?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "No. I just wanted to tell you that Marcus Flint was taken off the Quidditch team and put on probation for the rest of the year. I'm going to need your help to make sure only the twins take revenge, at least from Gryffindors. The twins are good enough at not getting caught, but… I'm not sure how to keep everyone from hunting Flint down."

"Harry!" This was Paradise.

Harry turned, trying to keep from showing how frazzled he felt. He still had homework to do! But… but this was Paradise. She had been broken and beaten, over and over. She needed the support. He swallowed the oncoming exhaustion and went to see what she needed.

o.o.o.o.o.o

"Harry? Can I talk to you?"

Harry barely looked up from his essay. It was close to ten and he still wasn't finished. It was the third week of school! This should not be allowed. "Sure, Andy, what's up?" He knew Andy. Andy Kirke. Second year. Cannon's fan. People were beginning to give him a headache.

Andy perched on the arm of a nearby chair. "It's about Ginny, you know, Ginny Weasley. She really wants to talk to you, about the whole Chamber of Secrets thing, but she's not brave enough to bring up on her own. Zia suggested that I ask you about it."

Ginny. Ginny... Oh _Merlin._ This was very not good. He didn't want to talk to Ginny! He didn't even want to think about the Chamber and Riddle, but, but, but… He hadn't really seen her while he was living in Diagon Alley those couple of weeks before school. And he hadn't talked to her at all during school. What was she thinking? Was she as traumatized as he? Did the dementors affect her? Harry pushed his essay aside and bashed his head against the table he was working on.

"Uh… Harry?"

He looked up from the table. Andy was staring at him, like he was loon. Great… "Thanks for letting me know, Andy. I'll talk with Ginny about it, when, I, uh, figure out what needs to be said."

"Great," Andy said. He disappeared into the still busy common room. Harry went back to his Potion's essay. Snape was evil. He really was evil. He had assigned an essay each week and each weekend since school started. Normally, Harry would have waited until Wednesday or Thursday to start this one, but he didn't have anything else to do right now. He had Quidditch practice later in this week, and would probably be spending some time studying with Neville, Anthony, Mandy, and a few other Ravenclaws… or maybe Megan and Wayne. It was amazing where a few questions took you in the general scheme of things.

Neville slid into the seat that Andy vacated, and Mary and Eliza sat down at the other side of the table. They all stared at Harry, almost intently. "No. I have not opened the Gringotts letter yet." Neville poked him. "Fine!" Harry reached into his bag and pulled out a letter from Gringotts. According to Neville, he should have been receiving bank notices for a while now, and he had demanded that Harry draft a letter to Gringotts to inquire as to why. It was a little weird. Once you officially requested that Neville do something for you, he did it with confidence and a vengeance, not like the old Neville.

Harry broke the seal on the letter, pulled out a full sheath of paper and handed the letters to Neville. After a few moments, Neville put the letters down and rested his chin on his hands. "Gram is going to kill Dumbledore."

"What?" Harry, Mary and Eliza spoke nearly in unison.

"Apparently, Gringotts in launching a full investigation into the handling of Harry's bank account due to the discrepancies in the records. They have inquired why Harry has not showed for the numerous Reading of Last Wills and Testimonies that they have sent notice to him for."

"What?" Harry wasn't focused on his essay anymore. This was far more interesting. Hermione finally got back from her 'quick' trip to the library and joined Harry at the table. She watched with interest as Neville flipped through the remaining papers.

Neville bashed his chin against his hands. "Dumbledore is the only one capable of this. He really is. Harry, you've been named the soul benefactor of at least three houses, and received hefty bequeaths in the wills of others! They sent along a calculation of your current liquid assets, as well as property in only the Potter family. But look-" He handed the papers to Harry. "Look at those names!"

There were two Noble and Ancient Houses, one Noble and Most Ancient House, and multiple Noble Houses mentioned in the letter from Gringotts. One of the Noble Houses was Spinnet… "But-" Harry pointed the name out Neville. "I know Spinnets."

"Different Spinnet," Mary said, "well, sort of. Two generations ago, a Spinnet male married a muggle and was disowned. That was Alicia's grandfather. So, Alicia and Sarah are still technically halfbloods and as they were never conducted back into the family, the Spinnet family went dead when Gregory Spinnet died five years ago." Mary sighed. "Sometimes I hate being a Nomah. It makes me sound so stuck up."

"Nomah?" Hermione asked.

"NOble and Most Ancient House," Neville said. "In Gryffindor, it's just me, Harry, and the MacDonalds. There are more Noahs, though."

"A Noble and Ancient House?" Hermione guessed.

Eliza nodded. "That's the Turpins, the Woods, the Towlers, the Vanes, the Patils, and the Browns, and that's just in Gryffindor. Technically, this isn't supposed to affect our schooling at all. And in Gryffindor it doesn't. Slytherin still swears by the pureblood code. It really isn't as big a deal as we're making it seem."

"I hate wizard politics," Hermione and Harry said together.

"I hate politics," Harry muttered in addition. "So, Nev, what do I do from here? With the whole bank thing?"

"Draft a letter back to Gringotts and tell them you'd like to arrange a meeting to discussion the investigation and attend to the Reading of the Last Wills and Testimonies. You'll have to talk with Professor McGonagall to see if you can go to Gringotts one weekend."

"Great," Harry grumbled. "More complications."

"It's life," Mary nodded. "It's nomah-ship."

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry steeled himself for this conversation. He had already told Hermione and Neville that he'd be eating with mostly second years; Neville knew a bunch of them already, but Hermione decided she's spend the evening meal with Pavarti and Lavender. "Come on Harry," Neville urged, leading him on to where Andy, Geo, Ginny, and two other second years were eating dinner.

"Hi guys," Harry said, as he slid into the seat next to Andy and across from Ginny. Ginny looked up and hers eyes went wide. She looked like a scared deer. "So, I know Andy, and Ginny and Geo here, but you guys are?"

"Zia Ayna."

"Harry Bailey."

Harry blinked. "Oh. Cool. Hi guys." He helped himself to a serving of food and started to eat. Andy and Geo seemed to be the only two people who had a clue as to what was going on. They and Neville kept a pretty consistent stream of conversation flowing until Harry and finally worked up the courage to actually talk. "So what are your favorite subjects?"

Andy liked Defense and Charms. Geo liked Transfiguration. Zia liked Charms and Herbology. Littler Harry liked Defense and Transfiguration. Ginny liked Potions and Charms. Harry asked about Quidditch teams. Andy said the Cannons. Geo and Harry said the Falcons. Zia and Ginny said the Harpies. After that, conversation flowed pretty freely between all seven participants. By the end of dinner, Ginny looked a little bit more at ease around Harry, and he was satisfied that goal one had been accomplished. Neville just watched with a smirk.

And then Ron ruined it. He pushed into the group between Ginny and Neville. "Hey, Harry, what are you doing with the little kids?"

Ginny snapped. "Look, Ron, when's your birthday?" Before Ron could reply, Ginny barreled on. "March 1st. And, hey Harry, both of you, when are your birthdays?"

"July 31st…"

"January 8th…"

"See, Ron," Ginny snarled, "Harry's actually closer in age to Harry than you are. And, yeah, same with Zia and Andy. So could you please just buzz off and stop being insulting?" She actually pushed him. And then she jumped from table and ran from the Great Hall. Zia shot a dangerous glare at Ron before chasing after her friend. The boys excused themselves one after another, all seemingly annoyed at Ron.

"Come on, Harry," Neville said, when it was just the three third year boys left. "We've got some time to hit the library before Defense."

Harry and Neville left.

Ron sulked.


	5. Weasley Problems and Patroni Joys

Chapter Five

Weasley Problems and Patroni Joys

"You wanted to see me, professor?" It was after their Wednesday class and Harry had stayed behind. He had a study period next – one of his few open periods of the week.

Remus could hear the exhaustion in Harry's voice. His heart panged. He was actually going to ask this child to do something in addition to everything else? By now, nearly the entire school had heard of Harry's new resolution. Most of the school scoffed. Even some of the Gryffindors seemed skeptical about Harry's choices. "Yes, Harry. I heard some interesting information from a few professors." He laced some humor into his voice. "You told Flitwick about your patronus?"

"Yes, and Sinistra, and—" Harry trailed off, seeming a little nervous. "Um… I've cast the spell a lot."

"Oh?" Remus said. He hadn't heard anything about this. Sure, he'd expected the young boy to practice, but the way he said _a lot._ "What do you mean?"

Harry dropped his bag onto the floor of the classroom and let out a nervous little sound. "Well, I was with Professor Sinistra and I had to show her… And she said I could try casting it multiple times and it worked. So far, I've only gotten four, and then I can't find another memory strong enough, but—" his words were coming out faster and faster now, running together so fast. "The four… there's a colt, an eagle, a snake, and a lion cub. I can't make more. And I can't use the same memory for multiple, and those four memories…"

"_Harry_," the professor said, when he could get a word in edgewise. "Take a breath."

Harry stopped talking.

"You've cast multiple patroni at the same time? Please show me." That was all the prompting Harry needed. He pulled out his wand and flicked it, murmuring the charm in four quick successions. The four patroni tumbled out together. The colt pranced through the air, the eagle perched on the colt's head, and the snake was wrapped around the eagle's neck. The silver-gold lion cub wove in and out of the colt's leg. The little cub looked like he was enjoying life and having fun and just pure enjoyment. That enjoyment seemed to have seeped into Harry's face as he watched the four patroni dance around the room. "Oh," Remus said, "Have you named them?"

"No," Harry said, his eyes focused on the animals. "I was going to ask Paradise if she and her friends wanted to do it."

Remus sank into his chair with a content smile on his face. When he'd first talked with some of the other professors about their experiences with Harry, he'd been slightly worried about how the boy was handling his life. But for all he had experienced, Harry seemed to be a successful, caring student. And for what he was doing for Paradise Aster was beyond any of his expectations. Even Lily hadn't been that giving. "Be sure and leave yourself the option of a veto. Otherwise you'll end up with names like Flutterbunny."

The snake raised its head and hissed; his tongue was a marbled black-red. The other patroni did not respond. Harry laughed. "I think I'll call the snake Flutterbunny. He seems to like it." The snake hissed again. The boy and the professor just laughed. Harry flicked his wand and the four patroni vaporized. "Oh, and thanks for the Latin book," Harry stuffed his wand back into the little handmade holster – he'd seen a few of the older kids with holsters and wanted to buy one on his next trip to the ally… "It's been really helpful in understanding the various incantations."

"Good. Now Harry-"

"Um, professor," Harry said, seemingly not realizing the professor had spoken, "I've got to go to Diagon Ally, but I asked McGonagall and she said she'd have to ask Dumbledore, and Dumbledore said I could go if I had three staff supervisors, which makes no sense because Neville and I are just two kid and there's two hundred and three kids, but that's what he said, so I was wondering if you could go to Diagon Ally as a supervisor this weekend? Please? Well me… and Neville… and Mary… and Hermione, if she gets permission… and maybe Katie, but Dumbledore said no more than five."

Remus blinked. "What do you need in the ally?"

"Gringotts business, and trying to appease Mary as to my state as a nomah. So, shopping."

"A nomah?"

Harry snickered. "Oh, it's just another part of the vast knowledge of complicated socialness that I was missing out on. Will you please say yes?"

"Sure, Harry," Remus said. "I'd be honored."

"Awesome. Now, can I go? I've got homework for Transfiguration and McGonagall will kill me if it's not up to my new standard…"

"Go."

Harry nearly flew from the Defense classroom. In Merlin's name, that boy! Not knowing him beforehand, Remus had such little basis to judge things on, but the musings of Minerva and Aurora and pretty much everyone but Snape filled in most of the details. Seemingly all the staff could talk about was the positive change in Harry Potter. Some – mainly Poppy – worried that he'd burn himself out and become really sick, but others – Minerva and Aurora – were simply ecstatic in the change in him. Remus truly liked the boy. He truly wished… Well. If wishes were horses than beggars would ride. The defense professor buried himself in his grading, secretly looking forward to Saturday a little bit more than he should have.

o.o.o.o.o.o

By Thursday, on the third week of school and the first week of The-Official-Harry-Potter-Campaign-of-Ridiculous-Sociality (the ridiculous part had been a Draco Malfoy addition. Kenneth liked it, so it stuck. Draco had been so mad to hear someone make light of his supposedly sarcastic jabs.), Harry had taken to doing homework during meals and collapsing behind the closed curtains of his bed shortly before ten. He kept saying he needed time to adjust. New information, new schedules, it was overloading him. Harry sighed. He'd just have to get better.

At dinner, Thursday evening, Harry propped his Runes textbook against a hefty goblet. He absent-mindedly shoveled food into his mouth while only half nodding whenever Ron said something that sounded like a question. They had a test on some of these runes tomorrow—

"Harry!"

He looked up and gave Paradise a quick grin, shoveled in another mouthful of food, and tried to fix the difference between "wake" and "sleep" into his mind. For being opposite words, in structure the runes were annoyingly similar. In the corner of his eye, Harry caught Ron pause and look rather unhappy. The Quidditch babble stopped. "What's up, Paradise?" Harry asked, still hidden behind his book.

"We've got some name suggestions, but you promised we could see them!"

"How about tonight? I'll show you guys and Emma and… oh geez, whoever… when we're back in the dorm." It would take a while… probably longer than Harry wished, but they were girls and they were unexplainable. His suggestion was rewarded with a brilliant smile before Paradise bounced over to the Hufflepuff table. He could just barely see Paradise joining Lily, Vicky, and what looked like Diana and Harrietta. She seemed to be establishing a pretty good friend-base. Harry closed his book and turned to Ron. "So, you were analyzing the whole league?"

"Would you just cut it out?" Ron grumbled. "I'm not an idiot. I know you're avoiding me."

Harry even put down his fork. "What, Ron, what would you prefer?"

"Stop being ridiculous and good and popular! It won't end well."

"For whom, Ron," Harry challenged. "Whom could I possibly be hurting?"

"Me! Yourself! You could become too trusting and then someone would backstab you!"

Harry glared. "Merlin, Ron. It's not like I'm making friends with Malfoy. Would you just back off? I _like_ my new friends. I _like_ my new classes." That was mostly true. He was a bit bored with all the basic math of Arithmancy, but so were all the muggleborns. "Why can't you recognize that?"

Ron made a face. He looked like he'd just bitten a lemon. "When'd we stop being best mates? Why'd you become such great friends with Longbottom? He… he's Neville!"

He hadn't expected that. "What?" Harry managed. By now, Harry noticed that several people were observing the fight and trying to look like they weren't. It was _really_ annoying. "You're really going to insult Neville? Do you have no sense, Ron? Nev's smart, and he's got information that I desperately need. If you can't recognize that, maybe we shouldn't be best mates." It wasn't as hard to say as he expected. But Ron…

The youngest male Weasley exploded. "So that's what you want? You just want to toss me aside for _better, richer_ friends, is that it? You're just a git, Harry. A pointless, stuck-up git. Don't come crawling back to me when you're new mates let you down." He jumped up from the table and stomped away. Halfway down the table, he swung out and pushed Ginny. She shrieked and tumbled into Andy, who'd been sitting next to her. A prefect from Hufflepuff who was sitting on the other side of the aisle bounced up and grabbed Ron's arms, preventing him from moving. McGonagall was already racing down between the tables.

The whole hall was openly staring. Fred, George, Percy and Ginny's second year friends were standing up, all looking murderous. Before McGonagall could reach them, Ginny got to her feet, shakily. The hall was so quiet, everyone could catch her words. "Grow up, Ronald. In case you haven't noticed, we're not five anymore." She turned and walked sedately from the hall, but at the entrance hallway, a broken sob sounded and she broke into a run. Harry grabbed his textbook and got up, heading for the entrance hall. McGonagall closed her hand around Ron's upper arm and hissed at him. She pulled him from the hall. The whole hall was still openly staring.

Harry stopped by the other second years. "Do you know where she went?"

All the boys shook their heads, but Zia bit her lip. "Probably the Quidditch pitch. Are you going to talk to her?"

"Yeah."

Zia looked instantly relieved. "Good. Ron's awful; Ginny says."

As Harry finished the rest of the walk from the Great Hall, the conversations broke into a flurry of opinions and gossips. It was dark by the time he got outside. A few lanterns illuminated the walkway to the Quidditch pitch, but it wasn't far. True to Zia's prediction, the youngest Weasley stood in the middle of the stadium, her head bowed and her arms wrapped around herself. Harry dropped his bag by the edge of the field and walked over towards her. He made no attempt to disguise his sound. "Hey, Ginny."

"Hey." Her voice was still streaked with tears.

"I'm sorry for making him mad."

Ginny sniffed. "Not your fault. Why does he do it? We've fought before; like, physically, but never at Hogwarts or anything. I hate this school."

That surprised Harry. "What?"

Ginny turned to look at him. A few random lanterns cast rather eerie shadows over her face. "Well, what do you expect? I'm doing extra work in all my classes just to stay a caught up because I was inhabited by the _Da__rk Lord_ last year. Zia, Andy, and the other Harry are really just my friends because they pity me! And then there's Ron and Percy and it's just _awful._ Why do I have to attend this awful school in the first place?"

Harry really didn't know how to respond. _Sharing. Be personal about yourself._ "You know, I don't think you're friends pity you. For one, I know Andy's really worried about you."

"What do you mean?"

"He asked me to talk to you," Harry said, desperately hoping that wasn't overstepping any boundaries. "They really are worried, Ginny. Have you tried talking to them about the chamber last year?"

She snorted and seemed to close together again. "No. What's there to talk about?"

"Ginny—"

"No, you know what, Harry. Let's just get back to the tower."

"Gin—"

"Stop it!" Ginny shrieked. "You've saved me once. I recognize I owe you a life debt. But can't you just leave me alone?" She whirled and ran away, racing back up towards the castle.

Harry stayed, cemented into the middle of the Quidditch pitch. When Andy had mentioned a problem, he hadn't known it was really this bad. He couldn't fathom why anyone would hate Hogwarts! It was so much better than the Dursleys. But then, Ginny hadn't grown up with the Dursleys. She'd been cared for and loved and probably a little spoiled all her life, not wealthy, sure, but _loved_. Did she not feel loved at Hogwarts? She certainly had a reason to not feel very safe… Harry bit his lip. Where there others around that disliked Hogwarts? He knew the school had some problems and all, but… but…

In the back corner of his mind, Harry felt the horrifying, dreadful touch of a dementor. He could hear his mother screaming, he could see the green light, Petunia with a frying pan— The patroni! Harry reached for his wand. He whispered the words as quickly as possible, desperately focusing on how it felt to fly. His colt wouldn't come. The boy shuddered and tried to cast the spell again. It didn't work. He grabbed his back and fled back to the castle, leaving the horrid, dark feelings behind on the Quidditch pitch.

The Great Hall wasn't empty, but it was emptier than before, with only about a dozen people scattered around each table. Harry didn't even enter the hall. He plodded away from the hall and up the many levels until reaching the port hole to the Gryffindor common room. The hallway was seemingly deserted. Harry sighed and gave the password to the Fat Lady. She tsked at him and swung open.

The gold and red common room was slightly subdued, but not an all-time low. The various second years were clustered together around one of the tables, but Ginny was still absent. Harry worked his way over to them and collapsed next to Andy with another sigh. "I didn't know it was that bad," Harry muttered.

"Yeah," Andy replied. They didn't need to say more. It was all understood.

After a few moments, Harry stood and headed towards one of the many corners. Hermione and Neville were talking with Able and Kenneth in their ordinary, slightly hushed tones. "You okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, when he sat down.

Harry shrugged and dove straight into Neville and Able's conversation. Hermione didn't push again, because she knew. He was not okay. He probably hadn't been for a very long time.

o.o.o.o.o.o

The patronus exhibition had been pushed to Friday evening. Ron had showed up to classes in a rotten mood and spent most of the day as far away from Harry as possible. Harry was – for once – grateful for Arithmancy and the starstuck attitude of his professor. He was acing the class, which only increased Vector's favoritism towards him. In general, it was rather frustrating. Still, Harry liked Arithmancy well enough. It had specific, definable rules, unlike Divination or getting along with people.

The common room on Friday night was buzzing with energy. All the first years – all twelve of them – had had the afternoon off, so they were seemingly more energetic than normal. Harry had a parchments spread out in front of him, writing an essay for Herbology on a specific species of magical plants. He had promised Paradise that when he'd finished this essay, but still, he couldn't help but be a little nervous. He hadn't managed the spell near the dementors and that was worrisome. What was the use of a spell if you couldn't manage it when it counted?

Still, Harry thought as he finished writing his conclusion, the spell made an excellent parlor trick when parlor tricks didn't mean much. Huh. He should get a book of Muggle magic tricks for Fred and George. Who knew the kind of chaos they could come up with when they started relying a little less on magic and more on ingenuity? Or something like that. Harry put down his quill and started counting. At three, he rolled up the piece of parchment and wrapped it with a piece of string. At seven, he had placed all parchments and books into his back. At ten, Paradise was standing by his arm, tugging at his sleeve and demanding to see the patroni. Harry let her pull over to a more open part of the ginormous common room. This had started out as just letting the first year girls name the silver animals! Now everyone wanted to see. The whole thing was exhausting.

But… Paradise, Lily and Victoria were so hard to refuse when they started begging… Harry pulled out his wand, rolled it between his fingers for a few seconds before looking down at the three girls. There was a whole crowd of Gryffindors ready to watch, but he could forget everyone else was here and just do it for his friends. "Imagine," Harry started, his voice low and whispery. He'd made up the script for his performance during the nights after the nightmares had woken him. Able and Neville, when asked whether it would be showmanship or boasting, had said go for as much dramatic flair as possible. "A lonely moor, you stand on the moor, a ghastly wind ripping at your head and shoulders. The cold air grabs your breath with a spindly hand and pulls it from you, leaving you gasping, and still so alone."

The girls stared, eyes wide. "In the distance, you see a silvery shadow moving across the moor. Could it be your salvation? Could it free you from this icy, wind caked moor? The shadow dances closer. You see it now, clearly, as a young silver horse. _Expecto patronum_," and out from his wand sprung the silvery colt. He pranced through the air, tossing his head with a regal, aloof beauty. Everyone stared, captivated. Harry let the colt play for a few more minutes before reclaiming his audience's attention. "Imagine a seaside cliff top. The moon is full, and in the forest behind you, you can hear the wolves howl." Vicky winced – he'd have to find out why later.

Harry filed that fact away and plunged back into the description. "Below you, the water crashes again and again against the ageless rock. It strikes you, just how old the world is. Just how powerful the ocean can be. Just how wonderful it is to live. And still, you can't but think how nice it would be to step over the cliff and fall… fall… fall…" The older listeners seemed to hold a collective breath, all waiting for what would happen. "Yet from the moon comes forth a silver figure. Ancient and magnificent all the same, swooping down from the heavens on high. _Expecto patronum,_" Harry raised his wand above his head, which gave the silver eagle enough space to swoop down and graze over Paradise's outstretched fingers. The eagle swooped around the room a few times and then opened his mouth in a soundless cry. "It is no albatross—" Able had insisted on that line, but Harry didn't know why, "—for saving your life.

"Imagine," Harry began, when the eagle came to rest on his shoulder, "the perfect garden, a utopia of peace. A haven from pain and worry and grief. You stand with people from across the world, all seeking to relieve a burden they bare. They are afraid of a serpent in a tree. They call it names and stay away from it. You do not. You do not fear the serpent. You approach the tree and ask the Serpent the burden it wants to leave behind." Harry took a deep breath. He felt like collapsing into a little ball and never coming out again. There was so much attention fixed on him! "_Expecto patronum_. The snake hisses words that only you understand." He hissed a single word in parseltongue. The patronus snake slithered over the ground, fake snapping at people's feet. None of the first years flinched. Everyone else looked at least slightly guilty. "The snake tells you that it has no burdens to relieve but the burden of fear. The snake fears the pain and grief that he has inflicted on mankind, but they will not allow him apologize. You are the first."

_It's just a story_, Harry reminded himself, _just finish the story._ "Imagine, you are curled into a cupboard. You do not move. There is a lock on the cupboard door, you can't get out. It's dark in the cupboard, peaceful. It's an escape from the outside world. In the cupboard, you can dare to dream that maybe there is something more to the world than the constant pain and hurt that you know too well." Paradise's eyes were wider than anyone else's. "Just pause and imagine what it would feel like to have one friend, one confidant, one protector. _Expecto patronum_," Harry whispered. The lion cub bounded from his wand and headed straight for a slightly shivering Paradise. He nosed the girl's hand and – when she granted permission – curled into her lap. Or so it seemed, the patronus was no more tangible than a ghost. "Just imagine what it feels like to be loved and protection is never far away." As he raised his wand, the four patronus gathered together in the air above Harry. They swirled and blew away in a hiss of flowing, silver mist.

Harry lowered his wand. The story was over and he had no idea of how it would be received… On the ground, Lily, Vicky and the other first year girls just looked astonished. Paradise looked sad and happy and lonely and comforted all at the same time. The other students looked anywhere from awed to thoughtful. Emma had leaned against William and was wiping away a tear. What? It wasn't… sad, just… the truth. No one said anything for a long time.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, "is it possible for you to not be honest? The cupboard—"

"That came from my own experiences," Harry replied, looking straight at his friend. He didn't drop eye contact with her until enough time had passed for the other students to stop reacting. Hermione offered him a short nodded before turning away, her shoulders unbelievably tense. Taking a deep breath, Harry looked down at the first year girls.

One of the girls he didn't really know was the first to squeal. "That was _so cool!_ Can you call them out again?"

Harry let himself relax. It took him a few moments, but he managed to call all four patroni back to the Gryffindor common room. "Did you think of names?"

Lily nodded. "We all did. Diane and Harrietta and even Siân helped! But it's hard to choose only three," the girl said… "Do you think you'll ever make more?"

"Maybe," Harry said, sitting down on the ground across from her. "They are built on good memories." By then, some of those not so involved in the naming process had drifted away, back to homework or whatever kept them busy. "And, I know I said four, but Flutterbunny likes his name." The snake curled around Harry's forearm, his mouth open in a silent his. The girls grinned. "So tell me your suggestions."

"Well, the Hufflepuffs think you should name the one Ceridwen," said Lily, "and Aria suggested we name at least one after one of the constellations we've been learning about in astronomy. "Lyra, I think." Lily looked at the blond girl who'd seemed so eager to see the patroni again.

"Lyra," Aria affirmed, "or Sculpture, if you looking for a male name."

"The eagle should be named Coleridge," Hermione suggested, offhandedly. The first year girls stared at her, like she had gone mad. Able and Kenneth grinned. "What?" Hermione smirked, "I can't help it if they don't read."

"Not Coleridge," Lily and Vicky said, in unison.

Harry settled back, waiting for a very long Friday night to end. Of the twelve Gryffindor first years, there were only five boys, so Lily, Vicky and Paradise were joined in plotting by Aria, Emerald, Julia, and Romilda. All the names were making Harry's head spin. It took over an hour, but the girls and Harry finally agreed on Orion for the colt (it satisfied Aria's request and Vicky loved it), Aegisa for the lion cub (whom they decided was decidedly female and Aegis just wasn't enough), Caradoc for the eagle (a suggestion of Lily's that she said would be Welsh enough for their Hufflepuff friends), and Flutterbunny the snake. Orion, Caradoc, Flutterbunny, and Aegisa seemed immensely satisfied with their names when Harry finally let them shift back into nothingness.

Emma hurried the first years off to bed and Harry gathered his things, retreating to his dormitory before Able or Kenneth or Hermione could lay siege and keep him up for any longer. He had the trip to Diagon Ally the next day and while Hermione hadn't managed to get a specially signed notice from her parents in time, Katie was still coming along to keep the three nomahs from completely over spending. Which was what the professors were supposed to do, but no one really trusted the professor's ability to not spoil poor-abused-little-must-be-loved-Boy-Who-Lived-Harry-Potter. Not that Harry minded.

It didn't take long for Harry to prepare for bed, but Ron was standing in the middle of the dorm room, obviously waiting for him. "What is it, Ron?" There wasn't anyone else in the room. Neville was still downstairs, probably talking with Able or plotting out some last minute financial details with Emma and Mary and some of the noahs… And Harry honestly had no idea what Dean or Seamus was doing.

"You just have to show off," Ron grumbled. "You can't _stand_ not having the attention." His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked redder than a tomato. Harry sagged; he just wanted sleep! He just wanted dreamless, uninterrupted sleep. He didn't want to deal with Ron. He didn't want to deal with the nightmares, but neither would go away! It was frustrating beyond believe. "Golden boy," Ron sneered, "golden boy Harry. You probably are glad your parents died. It gives _you_ all the fame."

Harry was too mad to know what he was doing. All he could see was the jeering face of his ex-friend. Definitely ex-friend. At that moment, there was nothing Ronald Weasley could do to befriend Harry Potter. In reality, Harry didn't do anything. He just stood, frozen, to the threshold of their dormitory as Ron yelled at him. The rant was wordless, soundless as it cracked down over Harry's voided emotions. He didn't know how long it continued for. He didn't see Colin Creevey popping out of the second year boys' dorms and racing down the stairs for a prefect. He didn't quite grasp his surroundings.

"Potter!" Ron screeched, at Harry's lack of response to his hurtful comments. "Potter, I'm talking to you!" His right hook came at an unfortunate time. It smacked Harry in the eye, but just as William, Percy, Oliver and the other seventh year boy came into view. Harry didn't even bother to stand his ground. Ron's punch drove him across the landing and into the other wall. Oliver grabbed Ron and kept him from pouncing on the fallen Harry. William helped Harry stand while Percy dove into berating his younger brother. Oliver and Percy escorted Ron down the stairs.

"You okay, Harry?" William asked.

Harry shrugged. He groped for the door to the third year's dorm. "Just tired…"

"Hospital wing?" The boy that Harry didn't know suggested.

"No, Eric," William sighed. "He probably needs sleep more than anything else." Neville, Able and Kenneth had made their way up the stairs, and behind them clustered Emma and some of the other older girls. They let Dean and Seamus push through the crowd and join their roommates.

Harry stumbled into his bed, not even bothering to wrap the curtains around his bed before his head touched the pillow. He was just too tired…

"Sorry, Harry."

"Ron's just… well…"

"We'll see if you guys don't have to share a room anymore."

"Sleep well, mate."

The last thing Harry was aware of was Neville pulling closed the curtain around his bed.


	6. Boring Old Gringotts

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else outside of public domain._

_A/N: I have no grand plans for this story. It is going to be a 100k+ word story (by the time I reach December, even, so I have no idea how long this story will be by the time the year is finished, or if I choose to continue it through fourth year). I've sort of being writing it along the lines of "oh, this would be interesting conflict. How would people react if this happened?" And so on. It's a very interesting way to write…_

_As for this chapter… I'm _not_ going to write the traditional "independent Harry goes shopping" scene. But I won't say no to some major Potter riches…_

Chapter 6

Boring Old Gringotts

When Harry woke the next morning, the first thing he thought was he hadn't had a nightmare. And then his eye hurt. Sigh. He couldn't even avoid getting hurt by his ex-best friend! Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up. With a flick of his wand, he quieted the alarm clock he'd set to wake himself and Neville up in time to be ready for the trip. They were scheduled to leave after a fairly early breakfast. Harry parted the curtains on his bed and slipped out in the early morning dusk of the dorm room. Neville had just poked his head out of his bed, and Dean and Seamus remained completely closed off. Ron's bed was empty.

"Hey, Harry," Neville said, his voice still heavy with sleep. He yawned. "Re-e-eady for Gringotts today?"

"No," Harry grabbed some of his better muggle clothes and one of his generic wizard robes that would easily fit over his other clothes. It didn't take him long to get ready for the day, and he did it in fairly effective silence. "But more so than I'm ready for whatever Mary has planned." Neville was still lagging in getting dressed. "See you at breakfast?" At Neville's nod, Harry moved out of the dormitory and down to the spacious common room. Normally, he was awake much earlier or much later, so while he recognized a few of the morning people, he didn't know all of them.

He plopped down next to Ruth Turpin – the sixth year metamorphmagus – and two other girls that he knew he should know but couldn't really quite place. "You're up late," Ruth commented. Her hair was a muted brown that morning and not very stylistically done. She was probably in a not-so-great mood.

"Late?" grumbled one of the girls, "It's pre-eleven am Saturday. What are we even doing up?"

"Oh come on, Temperance," scolded the other girl, "enjoy the morning." She smiled at Harry and put down the romance novel she had been reading. "Your show last night was very dramatic. We should have dramatic stuff more often."

Harry shrugged. "If they didn't exhaust me or make people mad, I'd be game for more." It wasn't really true. He didn't ever what to do something like that again. It had been hard enough as it was, not to mention Ron…

"I'm Sarah," the girl said, "seventh year. You know, we should put a play together. Like, a Hogwarts school play, with auditions and everything." Her eyes seemed to sparkle. "I know I tried second year, but maybe this year, if I get Mary and Emma behind it…" Sarah bounced up and headed for the girl's dormitory. "I'm going to go talk to Emma."

Ruth bashed her head on the table. "Doesn't she have enough on her plate? She's a seventh year!"

"She's _Sarah_," Temperance retorted. "That's, like, slightly less driven than _Hermione_."

Harry snorted. He looked up as Kenneth Towler loafed down the stairs and claimed the seat Sarah had just vacated. "You've had a week," Kenneth started, with no introduction. "Name everyone in Gryffindor."

Harry balked. "What? I don't _know_ everyone in Gryffindor."

"You've had a week!"

"A week!"

Temperance snickered. Ruth bashed her head against the table again. "I know everyone," Kenneth challenged, "well, their names, at the very least. Not to mention their blood status or nobility level."

"Seriously?" Harry copied Ruth and bashed his head against the table.

She looked at him for a second before smirking. "Feels good, don't it?"

"I'll steal your runes textbook again," Kenneth said.

Harry straightened. "You wouldn't dare." At Kenneth's just slightly raised eyebrows, Harry knew the older boy would most certainly dare. "Fine… well, there's Emma and William, Percy, Oliver, Sarah, and Eric." That was the seventh years. If Kenneth was feeling really sadistic, he'd make Harry do the last names, which he _knew _he couldn't do. "Ruth, Temperance and Zachary." He thought that was right. The sixth year boy definitely had a z-name. And then he knew most of the fifth years. "Fred, George, Lee, Angelina, Alicia, you and… and…" there was another girl… Harry closed his eyes, trying to force the name to come to him… "Priscilla or something."

Kenneth stayed expressionless. Ruth opened her mouth, but Kenneth cut her off with a vague hand motion. Harry groaned. "Cormac, Able, Queenie, Katie, Mary, Eliza, Demelza and Dakota. Myself, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Lavender, Pavarti, Dean, and Seamus. Ginny, Andy, Geo, Colin, Zia, Harry and… there's probably more second years. I don't know! Then Paradise, Lily, Vicky, Emerald, Aria, Romilda and Julia. I don't know the first year boys, okay?"

"It took you a week to get all that?" Kenneth raised an eyebrow.

"I'm trying!" Harry complained.

"It's Patricia, not Priscilla," Ruth said, in a rush, as if she were afraid Kenneth would cut her off. "And… I don't really know the under years."

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Kenneth oozed in his patronizing tone. "That's only a fourth of the school. How are you _ever _going to succeed if you can't even name a _fourth_ of the school?"

"I can name a fourth of the school! Just not one whole house," Harry protested. "And I'm trying in my classes. I'm friends with Anthony and Megan and Wayne and Kevin and Michael and the rest of my Runes class. I am working on it!"

"I know," Kenneth said, in a very annoyingly calm tone. "Just don't get comfortable in any level of success. Your textbook is safe until next Saturday." He left. Harry groaned. Ruth and Temperance looked at each other and started giggling. Harry bashed his head against the table. Twice. This was really not starting out as a good day.

At breakfast, Harry ate little. He was glad that Ron hadn't blacked his eye, because that would just cause more problems, but still, he didn't see Ron anywhere. Professor McGonagall, however, was presiding over the meal and not Dumbledore. That was a little weird.

"I wish I could go," Hermione sighed into her food. "I know I'll still get to go to Hogsmeade, but knowing you guys will be in Diagon sort of takes the excitement away." McGonagall had told Mary and Neville that she only managed to convince Dumbledore to let Harry and friends go was if an extra Hogsmeade trip would be added for that week. It had been announced Friday night, but Harry hadn't honestly been paying attention.

"You'll enjoy Hogsmeade though," Harry demanded, knowing how excited Hermione was to visit the only all-magical village in Britain. A little too excited… but, as Ruth had put it; it was _Hermione._

"'Course she will," Kenneth said, sliding down into the seat next to Hermione. "I'll make sure of it." The third year tried to fight a blush and then tried to disguise it as a glare. It wasn't really working. Harry resisted the urge to bash his head against the table. That technique was actually really addicting. He'd have to be careful or he could bash his forehead in, and then he wouldn't have anyone to blame but himself and Madame Pomfrey would go ballistic. Yeeeeaaaah. Just the thought of that quenched the head-bashing urge.

"Harry," Mary called, from the threshold, "let's go!"

He hadn't even noticed breakfast ending, or three of his professors leaving the head table. Harry excused himself from his friends and joined Neville, Mary and Katie. The four students all headed for McGonagall's office, where they'd be flooed straight to Gringotts. Mary and Katie were gossiping over what was apparently a particularly bad breakup between two seventh years, Matthias Reinhold and Adrianne Sampson. Harry really couldn't bring himself to care. A big part of him wished this whole past week had never happened so he could just go back to doing pointless stuff with Ron and Hermione and ignoring that the rest of the school even existed. But then he looked at Neville's eager, honest face and Orion, Caradoc, Aegisa and Flutterbunny and that wish lessened, if just a little. And Paradise. And Runes. And Able. And no Divination.

It had been a good week, just in general. And he really didn't want to give it up.

They reached Professor McGonagall's office in short order. Lupin and Sinistra were already there, both smiling and looking very ready for the day. They wore ordinary wizarding robes, although Lupin's were slightly shabbier than Sinistra's or McGonagall's. "Right," McGonagall greeted the four Gryffindors briskly. "Professor Lupin is going through first and you shall follow him. I trust that I do not need to remind you to be on your best behavior?"

Mary snickered, "You just did, Professor."

Their strict professor did not comment, but rather handed her fellow professor a handful of floo powered. The students all thought they saw a hint of a smile on McGonagall's face; they all knew she loved her Gryffindors. Lupin stepped into the immaculate fireplace and clearly spoke the words that carried him from Hogwarts to Gringotts. McGonagall gestured Katie and Mary to follow him, and then Professor Sinistra stepped through the floo. "Now, you two," McGonagall said, "I've got a pretty good idea of what you've spent so much time talking about, and while I know I'm not any sort of nobility, I must be sure… you are not superior to anyone because of your hereditary rank."

Both Harry and Neville looked affronted. "Of course!"

"Good," McGonagall said. "Now, Mr. Potter." Harry took the proffered handful of floo powder and stepped into the fire. He called the passcode – Gringotts Bank, London – and whirled through the reddish green but mostly brown system of fireplaces. This time, he stayed on his feet when the Gringotts gate spat him out. There was also not a speck of dust on his robes. Maybe fireplaces that didn't throw dust around where of higher class… Mary and Katie were standing together, not far from the gate. A goblin stood next to them, dressed out in what Harry assumed was full regalia. His outfit was just too full of bells and whistles to be anything otherwise.

Neville joined them in short order, followed by the stately professor. When the floo dimmed, the goblin spoke gravelly, and directly to Harry. "Your party is all here?"

"Yes," Harry responded. He didn't get why the goblins had put so much effort into trying to figure out his accounts. Even if he was rich, he couldn't be _that_ rich to actually matter. Besides, he was thirteen! He probably legally couldn't access most of any family riches. His friends regarded the occasion as they would some very formal event. Mary and Neville – as his equals – walked on either side of him, while Katie stayed directly behind them. This seemed perfectly normal to the teachers, who took up positions on both sides and behind the little group.

The goblin led the seven into a dimly lit conference hall off of the main teller's area. "Wait here." The goblin left.

"What are the shopping plans?" Professor Sinistra asked, once the goblin left.

Mary and Katie sparkled. "Wardrobe, mostly," Katie said. "As we aren't sure how much time we're going to need at the bank, and we _are_ on a time limit, we'd thought we'd get through the bank stuff, and if there's time before a lunch break, we could pick up innocuous things, like a wand holster or anything non-wardrobe related. Neville said he'd treat us to lunch at _de Lune_ and after that, we'd just work on the wardrobe." Harry had already expressed his surprise that clothes shopping would take all afternoon.

Dakota, Demelza, Mary, and Eliza had all laughed in his face. Queenie had just smiled and said "be grateful that it's not all day."

"Sounds like a plan," Sinistra said. She wandered around the small conference room. There wasn't too much to see, just a circle table with high backed chairs surrounding it. The light seemed to be ambient – simply wafted up from the ceilings or walls without a direct light source. There were no windows.

The door smashed open – Harry, Katie and Lupin jumped – and three official looking goblins entered the room. One of them carried a stack of far too many parchments. They instantly claimed seats around the table and gestured for the wizards and witches to do the same. Harry sat next to Neville and McGonagall, the people he most trusted as advisors, at least at this moment. "Harry James Potter," began one of the goblins, "our meeting here today is to address the issue of your family's faults and the many bequeaths that you have been unable to claim. Do you have any general items you wish to bring to the table?"

Harry shook his head.

The goblin inclined his head, as if acknowledging that a statement had been made. "You have reviewed our estimate of your liquid assets?"

"I have."

"You have reviewed the list of names that have listed you as a full or partial heir?"

"I have."

"And you have never been given this information before?"

"I have not."

The goblin huffed. "We are still investigating as to the nature of your ignorance. When we find the reason, it shall be rectified." This was just a fancy way, Harry decided, of saying they had no idea why he had been kept in the dark as to his finances and blood status. "The first Will we shall look of is that of James and Lily Potter, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter." One of the parchments unrolled itself in front of Harry, spreading out most of the table. Most of the Will was boring specifics that Harry had no reference for understanding. In truth, he had to keep from yawning through most of it. All he understood where the three properties – one in Godric's Hollow, a series of diamond mines in Africa, and a house in Greece – and the existence of a family vault that, once everything was finalized, he would finally have access too.

Neville was taking notes. Hopefully he'd be able to explain more of the specifics later.

When the goblin had finished reading through the Will, he paused, just long enough for the Will to roll back into a neat little cylinder. "Are there any questions as to the nature of the Will, Lord Potter?" Neville had explained that the goblins recognized him as the soul benefactor of his parents' will, and, due to their status, that made him a lord to the goblins. It was rather disconcerting. Harry shook his head.

"The second Will we shall examine is the Last Will and Testament of Lady Helena Moorland of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Moorland." A second Will rolled out over the table. Harry exchanged a glance with Katie. His teammate swallowed. This was probably going to be longer than they expected. The Moorland family had been mostly killed off in the war with Voldemort. Lady Helena had been the last surviving member of a noble family that had once owned acres of farmland and forest. In truth, the family had been close to destitute when Lady Helena died. The will came with the title Lord Moorland, a small family vault, and a large piece of unproductive farmland. He'd have to address getting the farm up and running again. Or that's what Harry predicted some advisor might say. He really, really, really, really times seven thousand times did not understand economics.

When they rolled the next Will out, Harry decided they had to be doing the Wills in order from greatest to least important – family wise, that was. An aging Lord Charles who'd survived the war while his sons had not had left the Noble and Ancient House of Aragon to the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry started. Aragon was Spanish or something or other… He filled that away to ask someone about later. The House of Aragon included several thousand liquid galleons, a palace somewhere in the south of England, and a private island somewhere in the Caribbean. Harry was starting to go into overload. He didn't know how to digest this. He really, really, really times seven thousand times did not know how to handle this.

Mary and Neville and the unflappable McGonagall seemed completely unfazed by the seemingly massive amounts of wealth and responsibility that was being thrust upon the boy. Katie, Remus and Aurora, however, watched with steadily growing eyes as Harry struggled to figure out what was going on. He was nobody! He hadn't done anything! It was just misfortune that kept him alive in the first place! Why would all these people leave _everything_ to him? He wanted to run and scream and ask them _why_? _Why?_

During the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Lady Verity of the Noble and Ancient House of Fallus, Harry developed a very sever eye-twitch. Too many people had ordered him to not fidget for him to dare move his fingers, but he couldn't control his eyelid. It was terrifying. The vocal goblin paused in the middle of the reading. "Lord Potter-Moorland-Aragon, do you require something?" Harry shook his head, forcing his eyelid to stay still. For once, it listened to him. The House of Fallus came with mostly property. Lady Verity had apparently traveled around Europe buying up many rustic homes and refurbishing them. Harry now, through the Fallus family, controlled medium or small sized houses in England, Scotland, Ireland, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Germany, Austria, Russia, Denmark, Switzerland, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Estonia. She also had two houses in the colonies. There was no money left in the Fallus holdings, but rather a family vault that seemed mostly oriented towards books.

The next two Wills, the goblin only read a partial section, as Harry had only been named as an heir while most of the House's wealth had been donated to notable charities. Still, from the Noble House of Arthure and the Noble House of Enon, Harry received another two houses – one somewhere in Wales and one in Hogsmeade – three family faults, and another couple of hundred galleons. Before the next will, a goblin appeared with ten tall glasses of refreshing looking liquid. Harry looked towards his professors and Neville, just checking to make sure it was okay to drink. At McGonagall's nod, Harry delightfully sipped the cold, refreshing water. In all honesty, he understood why someone – coughDumbledorecough – would keep all this from him. He didn't feel ready for it in the least bit! It was like, overwhelming.

The next Will came from the Noble House of Spinnet. Harry couldn't help but feel guilty about this one. The London mansion and galleons that came with the Spinnet house seemed more than a little tainted. He liked Alicia. And, well, he hadn't ever interacted with Sarah Spinnet, but he sort of vaguely recognized her as a Gryffindor second year. He'd have to see if, as Lord Spinnet, he could transfer his title to Alicia while he was still alive. If not, he'd probably take Alicia and Sarah in as wards or whatever that was that Eliza had tried to explain on… whenever… He had more than enough wealth to take care of the Spinnet girls, and Paradise… That thought nearly lit up Harry's eyes. He could provide for Paradise and himself. They'd probably still need legal guardians or whatever, but maybe he could take Paradise in as a ward! Harry shook himself and tried to focus on the reading of the Will.

After the House of Spinnet came the Noble House of Nanth, the Noble House of Bartholomew, and the Noble House of Carine. These three bequeaths consisted of little more than two more family vaults, a Quidditch team (the Sheffield Shooting Stars) which was jointly owned by the Nanths and the Carines, and - keeping with the astronomical theme – the company that made Comets. The Carines on their own owned a magical construction company. The construction company perked Harry's interest a little. He hadn't really thought about what companies he might have to check into after listening to the reading of the wills. What really struck Harry's name was accepting all these gifts came with formally adding another name onto his own. Harry James Potter-Moorland-Aragon-Fallus-Arthure-Enon-Spinnet-Nanth-Bartholomew-Carine was way too long to use any ordinary setting!

And the goblins still weren't done!

The rest of the Wills weren't from any noble houses, but rather purebloods, halfbloods, or even muggleborns. There was a house in France (he hadn't picked one up previously, which was actually kind of surprising), a law-firm that had long since debunked, and a chain of clothing stores that ran all through magical Britain. And more! Harry listened to it all with a sort of listless fascination. He had started to close in on himself so quickly after the Fallus Will that he wasn't really sure what was going on. The magnitude of it all.

He couldn't help but releasing a breath when the goblin reached the very last will.

This will was so much shorter than the rest, and if the way the goblins had been ordering the wills, it had to come from that of a muggleborn. The Will was brief. 'To H.J. Potter, for saving us: everything." Everything turned out to be yet smaller. A muggleborn by the name of Julia King had gotten caught up in the war and between not managing to hold down a job afterwards… she had died desolate, with only a couple galleons and a handful of sickles in the bank. With everything she had, you couldn't even buy a wand. And yet Harry struggled to keep himself from crying. Julia King had so little… she understood what everything meant.

More than anyone, Julia King would have been able to understand. Harry found himself desperately wishing that he could meet her and thank her and, something.

The goblin rolled up the last parchment and set it with the others. "Do you have any questions, Lord Potter-Moorland-Aragon-Fallus-Arthure-Enon-Spinnet-Nanth-Bartholomew-Carine?" Only the names of the nobility, apparently, were added to his title.

It was the only thing he could think of. "Do I have to go by that name?"

The goblin cackled. It sounded mean and evil. To a goblin, it probably sounded humorous. "No, Lord Potter, you do not."

"Is it possible for me to give one of the titles… estates… to another?"

The goblin snarled. "No."

Harry looked and Neville and McGonagall and then around at everyone else, but none of them seemed to be advising him to do anything. The young Lord looked over at the goblin and waiting for the banker to speak again.

"Here is a portfolio of your vaults numbers and properties and overall assets. The family vaults have not been inventoried. Your vault key has been included." The goblin pushed a thick packet across the table and Harry picked it up. He heard expected the jingle of several keys, but it felt as there was only one. He didn't worry about it. He wouldn't dare ask about it; the goblins probably already thought he was an idiot. "You may leave whenever. If you wish to access one of your vaults, speak to a teller." The three goblins left.

When the door closed, it seemed as if Lupin, Sinistra, Katie, and even McGonagall let out a collective gasp. Even Mary and Neville looked slightly awed. Harry just felt heavy. "Well," Katie mumbled, "I guess that gets rid of any and all money problems."

Neville looked at her she'd grown two heads. "You think?"

o.o.o.o.o.o

When Harry had asked, McGonagall vetoed an inventory of the various family vaults. Lupin supported her. Apparently, the one time he had visited the Potter family fault, it had taken him and Harry's mother some three hours to navigate it and they were looking for one particular thing. Trying to investigate eight vaults would take all day. When Harry inquired about an inspection of his various properties, McGonagall sighed and told him that would probably take way more time than he had available. In the end, Harry, Mary and Aurora had simply taken the ride down to his trust vault, gathered enough money for their shopping trip and rejoined the others in the Gringotts entrance hall.

At that time, it was already close to twelve-thirty. "We're going straight to _de Lune_," Neville said, when the girls looked like they wanted to jump into shopping immediately.

"We are so not going to have enough time," Mary complained.

Sinistra chuckled, "If anything, you girls can send Neville and Professor McGonagall off to get the practical items while you hold Harry hostage in a clothing store."

Mary and Neville brightened considerably at that suggestion. Harry just winced. He didn't want to go shopping. He wanted to curl into to a little dark whole and never come out. It was just… too much. Harry blinked quickly, trying to control himself. Before he could really think, he felt desperately hungry. The boy hung his head and followed his friends, more resigned to his fate than anything else. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.

His life would probably kill him in a week or so.


	7. Repercusions of Saturday

_A/N: Three cheers for HPMOR and LessWrong's growing(?) cult of rationality (semi-referenced in this chapter). I respect and enjoy that story. I do not subscribe to that particular method of logic and reasoning. Anyway. I'm not attempting to write an extremely rational fic here; just perhaps provide some enjoyment to the reader who happens to stumble upon it.  
><em>

_Enjoy. Skittles are served at a dislike-Ron party at the end of the chapter.  
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Chapter 7

Repercussions of Saturday

Sunday morning dawned for Harry earlier than normal. He had managed about seven hours of sleep, but that included collapsing nine, too exhausted from Gringotts and shopping and then coming back to Hogwarts and dealing with all the _rumors._ The rumors spread to fast for Harry to believe. While all the Gryffindors seemed at least slightly straight on the details, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and blown reports of Harry's inherited wealth way out of proportion. Slytherins just sneered. Sunday morning was when Harry had arranged to speak with Alicia and Sarah, together, without anyone else involved. He hoped Alicia knew him well enough to know that there wasn't really any ulterior motive, but _still_ it was a little nerve wracking to tell someone "oh, hey, I inherited a fortune that should rightfully be yours, but by law, I can't give it to you. Haha! Lucky me."

He hadn't had time to ask Hermione how Hogsmeade was. He'd barely managed to snag a quick conversation with Able before exhaustion chased him up to bed. At five on Sunday, Harry gave up on trying falling back asleep and rolled out of bed, heading for the common room. He dressed in some of the casual clothes from yesterday's shopping trip: slacks and a patterned button down shirt. Two boys that he didn't know, either second or first years, were playing gobstones by the fire. Paradise was curled into an armchair, watching them. Neither of the boys seemed to intent on noticing her. Sarah Spinnet, a small, black-haired girl who'd nearly had a panic attack when Harry last talked to her, was a few chairs over from Paradise, reading a book. It was five am! Why where they up? Well, besides Paradise.

"Hi Harry," Paradise said, before he even claimed a seat.

"Hi Paradise, hi guys." He plopped down into an armchair next to Paradise. Sarah and the two boys looked at him. Sarah turned a bright shade of red. The boys looked a little quizzical before going back to their game. How on earth would he start a conversation with them? Gah. His conversation skills needed to so much work. "How's the game going?"

"Eh," said one of the boys, "Harry's winning pretty handily."

Harry Potter blinked. The other boy playing wasn't Harry Bailey. There were _multiple_ Harry's in the younger years? And, did Harrietta Turpin count, or was that just having a big head? Because it was a little freaky.

"Not true," said the other Harry. That Harry had blonde hair and gray eyes and an overload of freckles. "Jack's just being humble."

They went back to their game. Paradise hopped over the arm of her chair and perched on the left arm of Harry's chair. "It's Jack Sloper and Harry Bellwood; they're in my year. You know, you're sort of behind in meeting the guys in my year… and second year. Why's that?"

"Just… stuff," Harry said. He pulled out his potions textbook and started rereading the section he'd need for the next class. Of all his classes, Professor Snape was still the hardest teacher to learn from. And he had constantly accused Harry of cheating last week. He needed to prove that he could actually brew potions.

Paradise wrinkled her nose as she looked over into the textbook. "You should stop reading textbooks this early. Read a novel or something. It's the weekend!" Harry put the textbook down on the floor and sat back in the chair. It was a bit chair and really, it could have fit three people his size, so it certainly didn't feel crowded with Paradise perched on the side.

"Hey, Harry…" the first year Jack started, almost cautiously, "is it truly you're an heir of Gryffindor?"

"No!" The other Harry said. "I heard it was _Merlin!_"

Harry laughed. He couldn't help himself. The things people thought and said were really just ridiculous. "I don't know, Jack. Gryffindor's sword helped me in a tight spot last year, but I don't think I'm a physical heir of Gryffindor, or Merlin. I don't think Merlin has any heirs." The two boys looked disappointed. They went back to their game and Jack got spewed with a face full of the gobstone goo. The other Harry laughed.

"Harry," Sarah said, so quietly he almost didn't hear her, "you should put on a dramatic personification of when you slayed the basilisk last year; like you did with the patroni. I think everyone would learn a lot."

From there girls' staircase, there was a small, heartrending gasp. Harry turned just in time to see a flash of red hair flying back up the stairs. He knew it was Ginny. "You know, Sarah, I don't think that's such a great idea."

She looked disappointed. "Do you think you'll ever do another performance?"

Harry was finding it very difficult to say one of the simplest words in the English language. Paradise was watching him, her face pinched like she was begging him to perform some feat of great magic or dramatic sway, while Sarah just looked hopefully intrigued. "I… I don't know. What do you think, Sarah, of talking with Emma and seeing if you can organize a little in-house talent show? Then I could see what you're good at."

Sarah paled. "But I'm not… good at anything." Paradise nodded in agreement.

"That's not true," Harry countered. "Come on, tell me something you're good at. You too, Paradise."

Paradise shook her head, refusing to speak.

"I…" Sarah Spinnet stuttered, "Alicia's the talented one. I just… draw."

Someone ka-thumped down the girls' stairs, very loud, and sounding very, very not awake. Ruth Turpin tumbled down the stairs, her bright orange hair and knotted mess. "Oh I _hate_ mornings. I _hate_ Tonks' training schedule. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it!" She stumbled out of the portrait hole, mumbling obscenities about early Sunday mornings and aurors who need to meet at odd hours during the day. Ruth's arrival, as hurried and rushed as it was, opened the floodgates of all the idiots who got up early on Sunday mornings. Oliver Wood was one of the first to come down to the common room.

There were quite a few early risers in Gryffindor: Oliver, Emma and William from the seventh years, none of the sixth years, Alicia, and that other girl – Patricia or something, Queenie, Katie and Able, and then Harry and sometimes Hermione. In the newer years, Harry really didn't know who got up earliest, but so far, it seemed like Paradise constantly won the title of earliest riser. After Oliver, Emma and William came down at about the same time – Harry was starting to think the two of them were telepathically linked, it was a little scary how they acted sometimes – and the two of them claimed a secluded corner just to talk. Just talking, in all honesty. Which, Harry really didn't understand. He realized that he probably wasn't mature enough to really understand, but he thought relationships involved like… more.

Able was the next one down, and he claimed a seat near Harry before cracking open a book of magical mythology. Alicia was the next one down. She yawned, rather sleepily, and Harry felt the nerves creep back into him. How on earth was he going to approach Alicia and Sarah about this?

Thankfully enough, Alicia made her way over to Harry and her younger sister. Still yawning, she asked "Could we maybe get whatever this is over with before breakfast? I've got three more essays to write this weekend."

"Sure," Harry said, getting up from the comfy armchair. Paradise rolled over and plopped into the middle of the chair, all slouched and looking rather comfy. Harry rolled his eyes at her, but gestured for Sarah to join him and Alicia in heading towards one of the portrait-less rooms not far from the Gryffindor tower. As they went, just Harry and the two girls, the young boy noticed Sarah getting more and more nervous. Alicia just seemed vaguely curiously, but as if it whatever Harry had to say was above her interest. What if it was? What if he was being presumptuous or one of those other big words that Hermione and Kenneth loved? The room had a few chairs scattered around it, as a lot of people had taken to using it for more private matters. "You guys know that I went to Diagon Ally yesterday, mostly on Gringotts' business?"

Alicia and Sarah nodded. The two of them, Harry realized, could have been twins if Sarah were taller or Alicia shorter. Although, Sarah's hair was a lot longer than Alicia's. "Well," Harry said, "I, uh, was named heir in nearly thirty various wills, and one of those was the Spinnet family."

Sarah looked confused. Alicia's eyes went wide.

"That…" Harry shuddered, "I didn't like that. And so I asked Mary why – sorry, she's just seemed like the most knowledgeable at the time – and she told me a bit about your family history. And, I'm _definitely_ not a blood purist."

Alicia snorted, softly. "I met my great-grandparents Spinnet, once. They hated me, but I mostly got the sense that they hated everyone in my family. Sarah here wasn't old enough to remember."

"Well," Harry said, when Alicia stopped, "one of the houses I inherited was the Noble House of Spinnet and I wanted to give it back to you guys, but there's a provision that says I _can't_ – Neville took notes, if you're curious – but I _can_ take you on as a ward of one of my other Houses, say the House of Arthure, and provide you with the exact same benefits you would get as Ladies of the House of Spinnet. It's just… you'd need my signature for more things." At Alicia's and Sarah's fairly shocked looking expression, Harry dashed on. "I tried, though. I _really _don't want or need your house, but there's nothing—"

Alicia hugged him. Harry squeaked and tumbled backwards. His teammate managed to let go before he completely lost balance and then she conveniently didn't catch him, so Harry hit the floor with a pretty loud thump. "Harry, you're a dear, okay? But we've still got parents and we're still pretty well off. And while I can't say that I wouldn't like the Spinnet House and everything, I can't really do anything until we talk with our parents."

"They're going to say no," Sarah said, softly.

Harry nodded. With Sarah's help, he got back to his feet and dusted a few specks of dirt from his new clothes. "Okay." He still felt as if he were stealing from them. "But if you – or your parents – ever need anything, or if you want to use the Spinnet mansion-" Alicia and Sarah blinked "—just let me know. And, would you or your parents object if I got each of you a more expensive gift? I don't want you to feel like I've stolen anything from you."

"Harry!" Alicia started laughing. "You can't possibly—"

"Want a Firebolt?" Harry asked, knowing it would shut her up.

Alicia gaped like a fish. Even Sarah, who probably wasn't real interested in Quidditch, still understood how momentous that offer was. After a few heartbeats, Alicia gained control of herself. "Desperately, but I'm not going to let you give me a random gift out of nowhere. Christmas, though. If you still want to, you can _definitely_ get me a Firebolt for Christmas." At Harry's laugh, Alicia kissed him on the cheek and then exited the little room, a cheery grin affixed to her face. Doubtlessly, word that Harry Potter had wanted to transfer a whole fortune to someone else and when that didn't work, buy her a _Firebolt_ would spread incredibly quickly through the school. Harry sighed. Dratted fame.

Sarah stayed in the room. She was close to bright red. "What about you, Sarah?" Harry asked, when he found the courage to speak again. "What do you want for Christmas?" She opened her mouth. She closed her mouth. She opened her mouth. She squeaked. She put her hand to her mouth. Her eyes widened. Sarah fled, brighter than a tomato.

Harry looked down at the floor.

That had been… successful.

Sort of.

No.

Not really.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry saw Ron towards the end of breakfast on Monday; they'd been avoiding each other all weekend. He came into the Great Hall, escorted by both of the twins. Ron slouched, appearing even more surly than normal. He made eye contact with Hermione, who winced and looked away. About six people down from Hermione, Harry caught Kenneth Towler looking murderous. Something had happened in Hogsmeade. Harry didn't see Ginny at all during breakfast, which was rather worrying. But he thought he knew what happened there. Sarah had spooked her earlier in the day. All the problems with Ron and Ginny… the only Weasley he'd previously disliked was Percy. And now he found himself nearly hating Ron, and Ginny hated him. It so was not a good feeling.

"Harry," Dakota said, dragging his attention away from Ron and the twins, "Have you completed our latest assignment?"

The fourth year girls had split everything up. Eliza and Mary – with tons of help from Neville – had become his "how to act like a noble" teachers. Which he thought was odd, because Eliza herself was a muggleborn. Katie and Demelza worked more normal social things, like how he should act when the nobility thing did not come into play. Dakota and Queenie were by default teaching everything he missed growing up in a muggle family. Which mean old-wives-tales, basic history, folklore, the usefulness of household charms and potions, and – Dakota seemed especially eager to start this one – a unit on actually managing a household. None of the girls believed he could cook. He'd have to find time in his schedule to take them all down to the kitchens and cook them lunch. Not that the house elves would appreciate that.

"No," Harry said, looking down at his plate. They'd given him a book of magical fairytales to read. He'd read two, both featuring an off-beat little rabbit; Babbity Rabbity. It had been interesting enough, but with potions later, he _needed_ to be ready for that lesson.

Dakota made a face. "I'd nag you to do your homework faster, but as it really isn't homework…"

"Yes it is," Katie said, smirking. "We can nag all we want."

Harry closed his eyes and shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth. He was royally screwed. The girls in Gryffindor didn't outnumber the number of boys, but the fourth years and the second years definitely had a female majority. And Harry was learning that girls liked being able to tell him what to do. Which was annoying, for sure, but it was better than not interacting with them at all. "Just don't kill me," Harry said. It was a defensive tactic; recognize that the girl held all the power and she'd be less likely to hurt him. Hm. He'd have to talk with Able and Kenneth – no, no, _not_ Kenneth; maybe William? – and ask them how to actually talk to… _girls_.

"Have you read any of the fairytales?" Dakota asked, not really acknowledging Katie's comment with anything but a grin.

"Yeah. I started the Babbity Rabbity ones, and now I've got first year girls asking me to put together another dramatic performance."

"Oooh," Angelina Johnson spoke up from down the table a ways. "Little Sarah asked about putting together a Gryffindor talent show. You could do it then."

"And big Sarah's talking to the teachers about putting together an interhouse play," Ruth Turpin called, from near Angelina. "You know you're auditioning for that, Harry."

Harry gulped. He couldn't. He had Quidditch and classes and people and HE COULDN'T HANDLE A PLAY. "No. No, I am so not."

"Singing!" "Music!" Demelza's and Dakota's cry came in unison that only twins could normally manage. It didn't surprise anyone at Gryffindor though; the Robbins girls were normally considered to be twins. The Robbins looked at each other and then at Katie and Queenie. "We've completely forgot that," Dakota said, "well, beyond the dancing and things. We need to check out his voice and talent and—"

Katie was nodding. Harry felt a level of dread start to trickle into his toes. Not _another_ something to deal with. "Who'd teach him though? I mean, maybe big Sarah—" that was something Harry had just started to pick up on. Big and little Sarah were a good five years apart, but they were normally predicated by a big or little if their name was used in dialogue. Besides Harry, Sarah was the only name claimed by multiple Gryffindors. Harry tuned back into Katie's babble. "—or Eric, but in all honesty, neither are probably the greatest teacher. So that means going to another house."

"We could ask Leann or Danielle," Queenie suggested, frowning.

"Fae and Brian are pretty gifted," Angelina said, when the fourth years looked slightly lost, "but it's OWLs year for us."

"Selene and Julius are the best singers and musicians in our year," Dakota said, a slight whine in her voice. "And they aren't _evil_."

"That is true," Mary said, slipping into the seat besides Katie. Mary and Eliza had left towards the beginning of breakfast, muttering some excuse about homework. "What's up?"

Demelza grabbed another breakfast sausage. "We forgot music. If Harry's going to audition for big Sarah's play, he should have some training."

That pretty much broke Harry. He stood up, picked up his bag, and turned to the girls. "Look, sure, I'll do whatever you think is necessary, but it's the third week of school and I'm feeling overrun. I just—I don't think I can keep up with this all. So, let me know when you've picked out the potential singing tutors, whatever, and tell me how to ask them. In the meantime, I've got class."

He didn't really. There was still a good half an hour until Potions, but still, it was _Potions._ Snape would probably take points just for being early. Merlin, he hated Monday mornings. True to prediction, Snape was awful. The only thing he could have done to make the class period worse was pair Harry with Ron or Malfoy. Instead, he was paired with Tracey Davis, which wasn't bad at all. Tracey was in his runes class, likeable enough, and had a fun, if overly sarcastic sense of humor. She wasn't on par with Kenneth's sadistic ways yet, but in a couple years or so, she might be able to give him a run for his money.

What made the class awful was Snape constantly jeering about students who didn't understand how to perform. Ron and Millicent were paired just in front of Tracey and Harry, and Millicent looked like she wanted to scream. Malfoy and Theodore Nott were paired together and positioned right behind Harry. Both Malfoy and Ron seemed intent on making Harry fail. In truth, Tracey mostly brewed the Potion while Harry kept all the sabotage attempts out. Of course, Professor Snape only focused on the first part of that equation and docked Harry some fifteen points for letting his partner do all the work.

Yup. Harry still hated Potions.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Care of Magical Creatures was the last Monday class, and Harry had asked to meet with Sinistra before dinner instead of afterwards so he could spend more prime time in the library with some of his out of house friends, which seemed to be growing in number nearly every day. But Hagrid had told him that McGonagall wanted to see him, so Harry told Hermione and Neville where he was going and headed for the Transfiguration classroom. His teacher was in her office, attending to some paperwork. "Tell me, Mr. Potter, do you understand how prefect's recommendation works?"

"Not really," Harry said. He had stayed in his seat, which was on the right side of the second row. "Isn't it how the prefects can suggest something be changed and you'll consider or… something?"

"Prefects are encouraged, even _expected_, to bring me possible solutions to various problems. I have received six prefect recommendations regarding the situation with you and Mr. Weasley." Harry swallowed. There were only six prefects per house. "Not to mention the half dozen or more other people I've had speak to me about a possible solution. I have reprimanded Mr. Weasley on his actions, both in regards to you and to Miss Weasley. I would like your take on the situation."

Harry stuttered. He didn't know how to understand his own viewpoint on the whole problem, let alone relate it someone else! "I don't know. I think Ron's jealous. We were really exclusive before and… I don't know. I got mad at him and wanted a change and I changed and he couldn't handle that. And, I don't know. I just—" Harry trailed off.

McGonagall didn't frown, but the firm line of her mouth was just as condemning. "Percy Weasley and Mr. Towler seemed to be in agreement that you should move dorm rooms in order to spend less time in closed quarters with the young Mr. Weasley. Mr. Waller is in agreement, and the female prefects appear to support them. Are you aware that if all six prefects from the same house are in agreement, they can effect change that only the Headmaster or a Head of House can overrule?"

"No ma'am," Harry sighed. It appeared as if he was going to be changing dorm rooms. He was not looking forward to that. Neville was really his closest friend, and he liked Dean and Seamus well enough.

McGonagall smiled, if just ever so slightly. "It was Mr. Towler's suggestion, apparently, that Mr. Longbottom and you should be moved into the fourth year boys' dorm. I believe that Percy disagrees; citing that it is likely unnecessary for Neville to join you, but he followed the general consensus of his fellow prefects. I have approved. The house elves have moved your things into that room today and Mr. Longbottom has been informed. I hope you will be understanding of your new arrangements?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. Would you like to head to Professor Sinistra's room directly? She has been particularly anxious to see you." McGonagall gestured to the mostly hidden door at the back of her classroom. It seemed like all the used classrooms and teacher's offices had direct links to wherever in the school that particular teacher wanted to go. Oh, magic. Harry grabbed his book bag and bounded through the magical door. It spat him out in directly in Sinistra's office.

His favorite professor was bent over a bunch of essays. She didn't even look up when she spoke. "What did Minerva want with you now?"

"Room change," Harry said. He hadn't really figured out how to truly talk to an adult until late last year, when Sinistra had listened to him about the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. She had, although, been in unsuccessful in convincing everyone else. Professor Snape, particularly, had been judgmental. As had Dumbledore, which made Harry more than a little resentful. Sinistra told him that Dumbledore had returned to the school _before_ Harry had decided to take matters into his own hands. Harry supposed that mistrusting most adults wasn't really healthy, but he couldn't bring himself to actually trust anyone other than Sinistra or even like anyone besides her, Professors Lupin, Babbling, McGonagall, and Flitwick. "They're moving Neville and me into the room with Able Vane and Cormac McLaggen."

That was a thought. He hadn't actually interacted with Cormac McLaggen a whole lot. He really didn't even know what the older boy looked like.

Sinistra nodded and eventually looked up from her notes. "Oh? Are you excited for that?"

Harry nodded as he took out his book on Latin. He was about three-fourths of the way through it. If the girls didn't really take up the whole music thing, he might be able to finish studying the book within the next couple of days. Sure, he was actually somewhat interested in music, and acting in a play with other actors and singing and… that might actually be interesting.

"Harry, what's your mind on now?"

"The play," Harry responded, rather lackadaisically. "I think I'm going to be forced to audition." He sort of wanted to, but unless the girls actually forced him, he wouldn't.

Sinistra laughed. "We're planning on doing The Five Founders, which is a tragic love story that fantasizes about the founding of Hogwarts." Harry sat up, intrigued. He hadn't actually heard anything about the play other than big Sarah had gotten it in motion. "Sarah moved rather fast," Sinistra said, noticing Harry's seeming thirst for information. "She convinced me to be the staff adviser, just yesterday now, and Flitwick's going to run the magic crew. It's a pretty in depth play; Sarah wants to hold auditions in two weeks." Harry winced. That would mean he'd have _someone_ try and teach him to sing, probably sooner rather than later.

"Why'd you choose the Five Founders?" Harry asked. He didn't know the play, but Hermione had told him about an anthology of wizard plays, so he'd heard it mentioned before.

"Flitwick wanted to do the Tragedy of Light, but there aren't enough female roles – or roles of any kind – in that play. The Five Founders has a pretty large cast, both male and female, so we figured it would be a good starting place."

Harry nodded. He actually knew the Tragedy of Light. Able was reading the play on assignment for his father; he hated the book. Kenneth found the play amusing, and Harry was vaguely aware of a few people that thought that play was incredible. Apparently, Flitwick was one of those. The professor and student sat in silence for a little while; Sinistra graded and Harry read. Harry relaxed. He felt so comfortable in the warm, unassuming walls of his professor's office. After a while, his professor put aside her grading. "Harry, when you asked the goblins about giving up one of your titles, where you thinking of the Spinnet girls?"

Harry stayed relaxed, even if he did get slightly wary. He should be more at ease, he told himself, this should be easy to talk to his professor. "Yes. I wanted… I wanted to give it back to them. But, I can't. I offered to take them in as wards, you know. I've got more than enough money, and if they were wards of the Fallus house, or the Carines or just… _me_… I could give them the equivalent of the Spinnet wealth. Alicia said no, but I'm getting her a Firebolt for Christmas."

Sinistra nodded. "You, Harry Potter, are an extraordinary kid."

Harry looked at the floor. Hesitantly, he looked, "I haven't asked Neville, so I don't know if it's possible, but… do you think I could take in Paradise as a ward? Or adopt her as a little sister? Or _something_ that'll take her away from her parents?" He hadn't been able to ask Neville or Mary about it. They knew about the abuse; pretty much everyone knew about the abuse now, but it was overwhelming to actually bring it up in conversation. And so Harry avoided the topic, but he was going to make sure that Paradise didn't get hurt again, even if he had to break her out himself.

Sinistra stood up from her desk and joined Harry in one of the chairs usually designed for students. It put them closer together. "I will guarantee you that Paradise is not going to be returned to her parents' custody. As for your ability to take her in, I'm not sure. I will ask Minerva."

Harry nodded. "I'd figured that I need a guardian too, but, do you think if I asked Professor McGonagall, I could have some say in the matter? It's just… I want to be able to take care of myself, and I _can_ do that. I want someone who will let me do that."

His words sounded increasingly dangerous. Sinistra was a Hufflepuff by birth, by nature, by schooling, and by choice. She was good enough at reading students to understand that Harry desperately needed someone to stand by him and support him, impose a few boundaries, but let him care for himself. Harry needed the perfect guardian. And, well… "Would you object if I volunteered?"

The boy blinked. And then blinked some more. He opened his mouth and couldn't really say anything. But he was trying. When he finally managed words, he squeaked out. "Really? You'd… you'd do that for me?"

"Harry," Sinistra whispered, "I'd like to believe that you trust me, so trust me when I tell you that people _care_. Your friends _care_ about you. Adults – myself, Remus, Minerva, others – we _care_ about you. We want to do what's best for you. I'd love you as a ward, as a son, as a student, whatever the decision comes out to be. Just know, Harry, that you are loved."

The boy was nearly crying.

Sinistra glanced at the clock. "Do you want to eat dinner in here?" It was six o'clock, and the boy certainly didn't look prepared to handle the Great Hall.

Harry nodded. His eyes threatened to spill with uncontrollable tears. Sinistra acted instinctually. She opened her arms and gestured for the hurting little boy to come closer. Harry came. He was tense, at first, when she first wrapped her arms around him, but he relaxed in seconds. Harry cried, and in his tears, he began the road to healing the gruesome, emotional scars that crisscrossed his entire life.


	8. Luna

_A/N: So, yeah. There's a huge cast of characters in this novel. It is hard to keep straight a huge cast, and I recognize that. I would like to mention, though, that if there is some character that obviously needs more screen time that has been left out, say something and I'll consider your suggestion. There's some people that I can't or just won't address in greater length. Pretty much all the Weasleys won't have more of a cursory role, as do many of the common fandon-love-minor-ish characters, like D. Greengrass and C. Diggory and others – students and adults. But evil people are evil people; so don't ask for Snape or Malfoy redemption. Because you won't get it. EVER.  
><em>

_To anyone who takes offense to my version of Luna, please note two things. Number one, this is fanfiction. Number two, it's still two years before Harry interacts with Luna in cannon. In the past two years, I've changed beyond recognition, and it's very possible that Luna has done the same between when she was twelve to when she was fourteen._

Chapter Eight

Luna

also entitled:

Everything Else is Overshadowed

"Name an entire year."

Kenneth's pop quizzes had become nearly commonplace. Harry had eventually just gone up to one member in every year and in every house and gotten the names of everyone in each category. He hadn't _met_ everyone, not even close, but at least he knew their names and had at least some idea of their year and house. Well, he'd gotten the names of Slytherins from people in other houses. And he hadn't attempted the second or first years yet. "Ruth, Temperance, Zachary, Penelope, Katherine, Terrance, Cedric, Sparkle, Vale, Steven, Daniel, Hezekiah, Adam, Elizabeth, James, Chastity, Sarah, Willow, and Kyle, sixth years." It was a lot easier to name the sixth and seventh years, as they had only nineteen and twenty students, respectively. The first year class had forty-five students. Harry managed to name all nineteen sixth years without even looking up from his textbook.

"You're beginning to cheat!" Kenneth cried. He sounded almost proud. The twins were sitting not far away.

"Harry?"

"_Cheat_?"

"It's a miracle!" The Weasley twins shouted together. That caused just enough commotion that people looked up to see what was happening. Harry hid behind his textbook. Kenneth and the twins laughed. Once the twins stopped laughing and things returned to normal, Harry managed to get in a few good minutes of reading in before Cormac McLaggen inserted himself between Harry and Hermione at the group's little study table.

"Hi Harry."

"Cormac," Harry said, still not looking up from his book. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Nope," Cormac answered, with a lilting, infuriating superior air to his voice. "Just looking to see if you needed any homework help. You're just being so studious over here, I thought you might need some help."

Cormac may not have noticed, but Harry knew her well enough, Able and Neville had innate danger senses, and Kenneth just _knew_ when Hermione was close to blowing. Of anyone who'd suffered from Neville and Harry moving into a dorm with Cormac, it was Hermione. She despised when the boy tried to insert himself into their group. She despised how he unwittingly and unintentionally – although she'd never admit that – insulted her. It ticked Harry off too, but he couldn't really do anything about it what with Mary and Eliza repeatedly telling him not too. "No thanks, Cormac," Harry said, "besides, I've got a meeting with Selene soon."

Wednesday evening. Fourth week of school.

"Besides," Hermione hissed, "some of us are actually intelligent." Cormac just looked confused. But at least he got the hint and moved off, probably to torment someone else. Hermione huffed and glared at Able. "How'd you put up with him for three years?"

Able shrugged. "Living with him shows you how awesome Neville is. The two of them are complete opposites." The group laughed. Harry liked laughing. He found himself doing it a lot more lately. Maybe he should try if he could manage a fifth patronus? Neville poked him on the wrist and discretely gestured towards the portrait hole, where Queenie and Katie were waiting for him. Supposedly, the two girls were going to escort him to his first meeting with Slytherin Selene Grant, who was supposed to be especially gifted when it came to music.

They met in an unused classroom near the base of the astronomy classroom. Selene was a regal looking fourth year student, who already looked old enough to pass off as a sixth or seventh year student. Katie and Queenie left, leaving the two students by themselves. It was painless enough, once they got going. Selene asked him how much he had sung, and at his reply, she frowned and asked him to sing something, sing _anything_. He couldn't really think of anything, so he warbled out Helga's Reel in different vowel sounds. It didn't sound as good as the actual song, but it wasn't _bad._ Selene just frowned.

She frowned a lot. Then she said he might be a natural, but he'd definitely need to learn the words to a song before he could actually really try singing. She started him on the scales and told him to _practice._ It was frustrating, really. He normally had homework for Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Herbology, lessens with Neville, Mary and Eliza, Katie and Dakota, Demelza and Queenie, Latin, Quidditch, and trying to juggle an increased amount of friends. It was, overwhelming, to say the least.

Thankfully, Selene only kept him singing scales for about half an hour. When she let him go, Harry gathered his things and darted through the many corridors and hallways it took to get to the school library. They should have magical maps of the school. He rarely got lost anymore, but still, a map that showed where everything was would be really helpful. Maybe he could make one… He reached the library in short order.

He was getting pretty good at taking mental inventories of who was who and who sat with whom. Tracey and Millicent sat with a bunch of other Slytherins that he didn't really recognize, so they were probably from different years. Anthony and Mandy studied with a few other Ravenclaws that he didn't really know, but he knew they were from his year: Morag, Su and Terry, he thought. There were a bunch of older students scattered around, but he really did need to interact with the younger years a bit more. Harry Bailey shared a table with what looked to be like a second year from every house, just the four of them. That could be an interesting group to join… Sarah and Aria were studying with a mixed group of first and second year girls. But he knew too many girls as it was. "Hey, Harry," Harry said, when he reached Harry Bailey's table, "can I join you?"

The four students looked up and gaped, even Bailey. They stuttered for a second before the younger Harry could manage a quick nod. He joined them, taking out the DADA textbook. They had a quiz the next day. The students didn't really say anything, they just stared. It was a little unnerving. "Hi, so I'm Harry…"

The only female, the Slytherin snorted, "Aren't we all?"

An amused look twisted over Harry Bailey's face. "Harry, meet Harrison Stevens, Harry Vanette, and Harriett Patterson." He gestured to the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin respectively.

Harry blinked. What? Um. Oh. Um. What?

Hufflepuff Harry grinned. "It's slightly worse among the first years: there are four Harrys, a Harrietta, a Harold, and a Harrison.

"There's _eleven_ Harrys in two years?" Harry whimpered, nearly incredulous. "That's more than half of the seventh years! How is that even _possible_?"

"Well Harriett is actually not named after you, surprise, surprise, and astonishingly enough, she can prove it." Harrison said, "Bailey's and my parents changed our names just days after you defeated You-Know-Who, and Vanette's mom is a pretty famed Irish Seer. You are more than a little famous."

Harrison smirked. "My mom works for Witch Weekly; she says they're only waiting until you hit fifteen to put you on the most eligible bachelor list. Some of the more enthusiastic writers want to list you sooner."

His – Harry Potter's – mind was twisting. He couldn't… he didn't… he wouldn't… "Excuse me while I go gag," he managed to gasp out before grabbing his stuff and fleeing from the library. He really _hated_ being famous.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Thursday morning, he awoke far too early for any normal person. Maybe he should go see Madame Pomfrey about the perpetual nightmares. The common room was empty. Even Emma and William, the earliest of the early risers, had yet to come down. Harry stared at the chirruping little fire and relished his few moments of peace. It was nice, not to be around anyone or anything, without having anything immediately demanding his attention. Contentment radiated through Harry. He grabbed his wand and focused on the memory he used to summon Aegisa: talking with Professor Sinistra long, long into the night. The little lion cub tumbled from the tip of his wand.

So he _could_ summon his patroni out of order. The third year called Orion, Flutterbunny and Caradoc and watched as the four patroni danced through the empty common room. Harry closed his eyes and focused on his friends: Hermione, Neville, Able, Paradise, Kenneth, Katie, and far too many to name. He'd used Hermione and Ron to first summon Flutterbunny; now it was just Hermione. Harry focused on how it felt to spend time with his friends, and, ultimately, to _laugh._ "_Expecto patronum_." His wand shivered a little, and out flew a sparkling bird, larger than anything he'd really seen before. Its neck was gracefully oversized, and its wings were perfectly magnificent. He'd have to ask if anyone knew what kind of bird it was. The other patroni all noticed the newcomer instantaneously.

Harry let his wand drop to his side. He held it naturally, just resting against his leg. The patroni spiraled around him, graceful and glorious. The firelight caught Harry's face _just so_ and mixed with the glittering silver patroni _just so_.

Something thunked. Harry startled. Sarah Spinnet bent over, picked up her drawing utensil and started stammering almost endless apologizes. She looked like she was going to scramble back up the stairs. "Sarah," Harry said, "_relax._"

The girl paused. "Sorry." She moved tentatively towards the fireplace. "You can burn it if you want."

"Burn what?"

The patroni gathered behind him, but the unknown bird sallied forth and flew around Sarah. The intangible beak brushed over the bangs on Sarah's forehead. A shiver of delight ran through the young girl. She held out a charcoal picture to Harry. It was all black and white, but it captured him, just standing in front of the fire, with the five patroni circling around him, wild, and cheerful, and looking almost alive. "The swan's gorgeous," Sarah whispered, reaching out. Her fingers drifted over the swan's wings; not touching, just tracing the outlines.

"This picture's gorgeous," Harry whispered, still entranced.

Sarah looked up, her eyes wide. "Really?"

"Of course!" Harry said. "It's exceptional. Do you have any others I could see?"

"Y…yes," Sarah stammered. She glanced at the girls' stairs. "I can go fetch them. Have you named the swan?"

"No," Harry said. He'd have to ask Hermione what a swan was. From what Sarah said, it seemed to just be the type of bird was, like how Caradoc was an eagle.

Sarah nodded and moved towards the stairs. "I like Kleio; she's my favorite of the Grecian muses." She said the words so softly that Harry knew he wasn't really meant to hear them, but heard them he did. The swan raised her neck into the air and swayed twice. It looked like approved of Kleio too. Harry let the patroni disappear, but the good feeling he had when they came out didn't yet dissolve. He opened the book of fairytales and started reading about a phoenix-princess who fell in love with an icedragon-prince. It was a fascinating doomed-romance. With the right magical effects, it would be _fa__scinating_ to see on stage.

Harry lowered his book. Oh great. They had him thinking about _everything_ on a stage. He was going to kill Sarah Bathsheba and the other girls before the year was out.

Sarah returned with a pretty hefty book-like packaging that just teemed with loose pieces of paper. "I don't normally share these…" she said, "but you're my friend, right?" She looked terrified. Of rejection? What would she have to be scared of?

"Of course, Sarah." Harry said. She handed him the package and he opened it. The pictures were many and diverse, but most of them focused on Hogwarts and the people of Hogwarts. The first one he saw was an angled view of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables during a feast. Harry recognized many of the individual people, it was that detailed. Another depicted Harry and Alicia and the rest of the Gryffindor team on the Quidditch pitch, with blurred green and silver blobs elsewhere on the field. Sarah had scrawled "Gryffindor Victory" in the margin. It was one of the few colored pictures.

Another picture was Harry, Hermione and Ron at a table; Hermione had a book and the two boys were playing chess. It made Harry's throat clog. Yet another was of what he assumed was Sarah's dorm room. There was another dorm room picture, but this was filled with her roommates. Harry instantly recognized Ginny and Zia. He didn't recognize the other two girls. Sarah herself wasn't in the picture. The Weasley girl was sitting on her bed, hunched over a battered little book with a quill in her hand. Tom Riddle's diary. Again, Harry found it hard to breath.

One of the few colored pictures was also one of the few abstract ones; the house colors for all four Hogwarts houses swirled together into a sky behind a black skyline that was obviously the castle. A detailed Hogwarts coat of arms graced one of the upper corners. There were two that Harry particularly liked and both were from the Gryffindor dance party. The first focused on Emma and William, during their very public kiss at the end of Helga's Reel; Sarah had captured all the emotion in their faces and bodies just perfectly. The second showed Fred and George doing something that could hardly be qualified as dancing while the rest of the house laughed at them.

"Hi Harry, Sarah." Both Harry and Sarah jumped at Emma's greeting. "What are you doing?"

Sarah started to stutter.

"We're looking at Sarah's drawings," Harry said. His friend looked like she wanted to run away like a very startled deer. "You should see this, Emma, it's really good." The older girl approached, good-naturedly and took the seat next to Harry. He showed her the picture of Fred and George first. Emma laughed. Sarah looked horrified.

"This is really good Sarah," Emma said, "have you had formal instruction?"

"No… I've worked with Dean some though." Her voice wavered. Harry handed Emma the picture of her and William.

The older girl took the picture and froze. She brushed William's face with one finger, even as tears brimmed in her eyes. Harry and Sarah shared a glance, horrified. Luckily enough for them that was when William decided it was time to join them in the common room. Emma didn't notice him at first; she was so fixed on the picture. He noticed her and her tears nearly immediately. "Emma?"

Gryffindor's queen gently laid down the picture and turned to face her best friend, boyfriend, and so many other labels. She jumped up from her chair and propelled herself at him, wrapping her arms around her neck and sobbing into his shoulder. William held her. He looked confused. "I'm not giving you up," Emma managed to sob. "I don't care what my family says! I'm not giving you up!"

"Emma—"

"No!" Emma shrieked. "William Caric, I love you for you and I'm _not_ going to let blood status or any stupid social standard change that. Please…"

"Em—"

She kissed him.

Sarah and Harry looked at each other, their faces bright red as they watched two of the older students get wrapped around each other. The emotion that poured from both William and Emma was almost tangible. When they broke apart, both of them had tears on their cheeks. Again, the two younger students looked guiltily at each other, but couldn't bring themselves to say anything or do anything or even turn away. The couple didn't even acknowledge Harry and Sarah and they left the common room. Their hushed whispers reached Harry as nothing more than unintelligible murmuring.

Sarah started gathering her pictures back together. "That really wasn't intentional."

Harry laughed, and after a few moments of indecision, Sarah joined in.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Breakfast that morning was undeniably… um… interesting. The Gryffindor table was abuzz with theories about why Emma and William seemed to have finally worked out what had been hanging over their heads. Harry and Sarah sat with Able, Neville and Hermione and snickered together as the fourth year girls, who were sitting not far away, related the whole history of Emma and William, apparently entirely for Harry's benefit. They'd been dating since their fifth year. At first, Emma's parents hadn't had a problem, but when the possibility of staying together after Hogwarts came up, the MacDonalds had condemned it.

Dumbledore made an official announcement about big Sarah's play. Snape sneered, like he always did, at the thought of the play, but most of the other teachers seemed at least a little interested in the idea. Flitwick, Sinistra and Lupin were openly excited about the idea. Hermione and little Sarah, probably two of the book-y-ish Gryffindors, started bonding. It was a scary sight. Halfway through the meal, Harry decided to be different. He left his stuff with Neville and moved towards the Ravenclaw table. Mandy sat on the edge of a bunch of Ravenclaw girls. There was an open seat between her and another Ravenclaw girl. Harry greeted Mandy and sat down.

She greeted him back, happily enough. He greeted Morag, Lisa, and Su, but Padma was nowhere to be seen. There were two other girls, who both looked younger. "Harry, meet Melissa and Noelle. Noelle, Melissa, meet Harry Potter." The two second years nodded politely, but went back to their food and their books. Typical Ravenclaws.

"Words run on and on and on. Don't trust the words. Words are infested. Words root your brain. Words lie." That was _not_ typical Ravenclaw. Harry gaped at the blonde girl beside him.

"Shut up, Loony," Melissa hissed. "You're a crazy old loon."

"I'll speak words," Luna snickered, "because I speak lies." Harry got the distinct impression that the girl was making fun of the normal Ravenclaw intelligence. It was humorous, is a sort of twisted way. The girl – Harry highly doubted her real name was Loony – made odd bird sounds as she slurped on a green, grassy looking drink. "I'll chirp the sounds, and I speak no lies."

Harry cocked his head. "As you said those words allowed, that still gives the freedom to chirp in lies, doesn't it?"

Melissa groaned. Noelle looked distressed. Morag was shaking her head in consternation, as if begging Harry to stop. Su, Lisa and Mandy seemed slightly horrified. The girl cocked her head at the exact same angle as Harry's. She chirped.

Harry chirped back.

Her eyes widened. She twittered rapidly before saying "Did you _mean_ to say that the sky is green, because it if _is_ the whole world is lying!"

Harry blinked, then grinned. "I don't know how to chirp the sounds, so you'll forgive me if they're a bit garbled."

She narrowed her gray eyes until her whole face simply reeked of suspiciousness. "But you said the sky was green!"

It was a challenge, Harry recognized in the suspicious reaction of the girl. His mind whirled through a dozen possible responses. "We have no way of communicating on a truthful basis, then," Harry said, eventually, "as I don't know how to chirp, and everything you say in words could very possibly be a full blown lie, even in regards to what you said I said while chirping."

She blinked. "Oh. I guess that does pose a problem. How could it be rectified?"

Harry was vaguely aware of a good third of the Ravenclaw table staring at them. The rest of them were absent, reading a book, or eating as fast as possible to get back to their books. "You could teach me how to chirp, or tell truths while speaking words."

"Oh. I guess I've never thought about that solution." She cocked her head in the other direction. "Melissa, I don't like you." The words tumbled out of her, like they were coming to fast. "I don't like you, at all. And that's the honest truth!" Gray eyes wide. Surprise. "Wow. That feels good." Harry swallowed. That wasn't the intent of what he'd suggested. Melissa looked absolutely murderous. "Thank you, Harry Potter!" She cooed. She jumped up from the table and ran towards the staff table. "Professor Flitwick! Professor Flitwick! I can tell the truth now!" The whole Hall, even the bookish Ravenclaws were staring at her.

The girl laughed, spinning around the front of the staff table like a drunken person. "I've got a crush on Remus Lupin! My name is Luna Lovegood and I am free!" Her sing-song voice rose to the rafters and held the attention of every single student and staff member. "My name is _Luna_ Lovegood and this establishment has done nothing to alleviate the torture that I've experienced here. Look, see?" She pointed at the Ravenclaw table, directly towards Melissa and Noelle. "They mock me, often. They've stolen my shoes and other things, so often that I can't remember how many times. They've destroyed homework of mine, vandalized my sleeping area, and _what_ did this school do in punishment? That's right, nothing! And you know I'm telling the truth. You all know the horrid aspects of this establishment!" No one dared look away. "Last year! Just last year a girl got _abducted_ by a _giant snake_ and the _soul of You-Know-Who_. Not to mention that DADA was taught by a fraud, know-nothing and idiot.

"And what has this establishment, what has this _great_ Headmaster ever done about it! Albus Dumbledore is not the man you think he is! He is not omniscient and omnipotent. As much as he'd like you think this, _he is not god!_ He lets bad things happen to _school children._ _He_ placed Harry Potter with a family that we all know abused him. It's _Dumbledore's_ fault. It's your mighty _hero's_ fault! So wake up! Honest truth, but you'd ask me how I know." Nothing was heard except the sound of Luna's voice. "Because it's in the facts, you unbelievers, you Ravenclaws! It's all in the facts." A soundless, wandless stunning spell hit Luna in the back of the head. She collapsed to the floor, like a graceless dancer dying from overwork. But everyone knew that Luna was only stunned.

Professor Dumbledore was standing. His voice seemed abnormally shaky. "Madame Pomfrey, would you please take Miss Lovegood to the hospital wing and perform a mental evaluation on her?"

The school nurse stood, levitated the unconscious girl, and left the hall.

A sinking feeling settled deep in Harry's stomach. He believed Luna. He honestly believed that everything she said was the truth. Harry, along with more than half of the school, stared at their Headmaster in horror. When he finally looked away, Harry looked first at Melissa and Noelle.

"She's crazy," Melissa complained, "fricking crazy. Who'd ever believe her?"

Mandy swallowed. "She's right though, Mel. And her conversation with Harry… he set her free."

o.o.o.o.o.o

By lunch, when the rumor mill had been given enough time to circulate, it seemed that everyone knew: Harry Potter had been the one who set Lovegood off. Harry Potter cracked the loopy-loony. By lunch, everyone knew that Luna Lovegood had been transferred to St. Mungo's for a more in depth psychiatric analysis. By lunch, Harry had dealt with far too many inquisitive glances, judgmental frowns, congratulatory and mocking smiles, awed stares, and puzzled expressions.

"Look," Harry stood and screamed to the general populace of the Great Hall. "I didn't mean to put Luna in a mental institution!"

When he sat back down, it was Hermione who broke him, in her well-meaning, factual manner. "But you did."


	9. Seculsion and Languages

Chapter Nine

Seclusion and Languages

It was Friday evening and Harry was hiding. He'd pulled the currents around his bed, burrowed under his covers, cast a soft _lumos_ charm and read the book of fairytales at a rapid pace. He had a bunch of textbooks by his pillow, but he had no interest in studying, not right now. For the first time, he was truly grateful for the fanciful stories because they provided an escape. Reading the stories, he could convince himself to forget, if just for a little while, that Luna Lovegood had never left Hogwarts. He could convince himself to forget that she hadn't yet returned.

"Harry." It was Hermione's voice, talking from outside the curtains. "Look, I know that Able and Neville have already tried, but you've _got_ to come out. C'mon, no one blames you!"

I blame me, Harry grumbled to himself. He wished he could cast the silencing charm he'd seen Kenneth practicing the other day. But no, he was still at the very beginning of his third year and only just starting to really try and learn. It _sucked _dumbing down all he learned his first two years. He'd thought he learned it, but he still had gaping holes were some elementary magic should have been. Hermione and Able were refusing to help him. They insisted that he recover anything he didn't learn the first two years by himself. Which, yeah, had been helpful overall, but he was barely staying afloat under the course load he had. And Hermione was even worse courseload wise. How on earth was she managing to take _all_ five possible electives?

"Harry," Hermione sounded as exhausted as Harry felt. "Please don't go back to moping and brooding all the time." She hiccupped. "I've really liked the past two weeks, you know, you and Neville and Able and Kenneth and even Sarah. I don't even really miss Ron." She paused. "Well, yeah, I do. Losing a friend like that is bloody awful." Hermione was swearing? She had to be really exhausted. "And, I know you're upset, but Harry, if you're blaming yourself, stop! If you think we're blaming you, stop! Don't give up on how great you've been these past two days." Hermione broke and sobbed a little. What was wrong?

"Sorry," Hermione said. Harry was tempted to pull aside the curtain, just to see how she was doing. "I'm just so tired and exhausted right now. It's the course load, I think." She paused. Harry thought for a second. Hermione was in his Arithmancy class. It was the same time as his old Divination class and she was still in that. So that meant she was in two places at once. Which meant either some sort of cloning spell, or some sort of time travel. Were either even possible? With magic, almost certainly. "Harry, please come out."

He didn't. He'd prefer to continue reading the tale about three brothers and Death. It was a fascinatingly twisted tale. "You know," Hermione's voice sounded like she was at the door now. "We're probably going to send Paradise up next. And everyone knows that you can't say no to her." Privately, Harry thought that was cheating. The dorm room door opened and closed, but in that one moment, he could hear Cormac complaining about not being allowed in his dorm room and Kenneth saying he'd better deal with it. Huh. Maybe they actually did care.

It took a while before the door opened again. Harry lowered his wand, unfocused his eyes and waited for the fourth wheedle attempt of the night. "Harry." Yup, Paradise Aster. His friends were either determined or really mean. Or both. Yeah, probably both. "I just came up here so I could say that I tried. I don't actually want to convince you to come out… Hiding works, sometimes." She sounded broken.

That was the mostly mean part.

"I think they're going to give up after me, though a lot of people have volunteered to hex you out of bed." Again, little Paradise sounded broken and worried. "Hermione's being the voice of reason against that. So, yeah, this is me, just trying: Harry stop hiding!" A giggle. "'Night Harry." The door opened and closed shut. That girl was _definitely_ a Gryffindor.

After Paradise, no one came in. It let Harry get wrapped back into the stories. He really did love these things. Even if the girls weren't making him read this stuff for homework, he'd have to keep reading, especially if there were more wizarding novels and if, oh, he liked these stories. The dorm room door opened, but from the instant chatter, he knew it was only Cormac McLaggen. Merlin, that boy was getting increasingly annoying, and he'd been in the room for less than a week.

Harry stayed buried in his book as Cormac talked through his nightly routine. Some twenty minutes afterward, Neville joined them and his own preparations. It was almost ten. People didn't seem to be all that eager to stay up late, even on a Friday night. The school mood was just… grim. Able arrived in the room a few minutes later. Harry noxed his wand and pulled open his curtains. Neville and Able didn't notice immediately. Well, he didn't really have any conversation to bring up, so the boy drew his curtains closed, relit his wand and buried himself back into his book.

o.o.o.o.o.o

"So this is our actual first Saturday meaning," McGonagall said, "as last week was an exception. So, Harry, tell me how you're doing."

Harry shrugged. "Fine, I suppose."

"Your grades are showing improvement, although Professor Snape still gripes about that fact." She sounded amused. "If I tell you your class rankings, will you promise to not tell Hermione Granger that we rank at Hogwarts?" At Harry's amused nod, McGonagall continued. "You've improved to the tenth spot in Transfiguration, the sixth position in Charms, and you've maintained top in Astronomy for several weeks now. You've risen three spots in History – which either means you're paying attention or starting individual study, you're maintaining the fifth spot in Herbology, and you're first in Defense Against the Dark Arts. You're still twentieth in Potions, but that's still Professor Snape. As for the electives, you're eighth in Creatures, sixth in Arithmancy, and fifth in Ancient Runes. These ranks change on a bi-weekly basis, and I would like to see some improvement in two weeks, Harry.

It was a little hard to digest all that information. Harry picked at the wood of his chair.

"Harry? Are you doing all right?"

The boy squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm not responsible, am I?"

It spoke to the state of the school that he didn't have to clarify as to what. No one had stopped talking about Luna yet, and the gossip mills probably wouldn't stop trying to figure out for ages. "Not in any manner, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, "in any way, shape or form. Do not continue to blame yourself for Luna Lovegood's state of mind." She sounded slightly worried. Was she just saying that? "If anyone is to be blamed, it is the staff members; Flitwick, Dumbledore, and Miss Lovegood's classmates. But no, Mr. Potter, you are not responsible."

"Th-thanks Professor," Harry said, tentatively. "can you… can you explain this atom swapping theory again?" He hadn't gotten it in class. They were dealing with the molecular side of transfiguration now. It was really hard stuff; Hermione kept talking about how this felt like an advanced level chemistry class. And that was _Hermione._ He'd once thought that wizards had a pretty poor understanding of science. And they _did…_ but they understood the world on a molecular level to a greater degree. Or something like that.

"Of course," McGonagall smiled and started going over the topic they'd studied the last week in class. He grasped the theory and everything, but he was having trouble making it actually work. It was really helpful, having his teacher's personal attention telling him what he was doing wrong. By the end of his scheduled time with McGonagall, Harry could successfully manage a simple transfiguration with the atom swapping method. He felt more successful than he'd had in a while. Being good at something really actually felt pretty good. Letting himself be good at something, well, that felt even better. When Harry managed to get the transfiguration correct, he and McGonagall discussed a few other topics they'd be learning and how everything connected together. The third year stayed until his teacher said she had grading to do; Harry left to go find another viable hiding spot.

The library worked only so well. Kevin Entwhistle was browsing the shelves of the DADA section, and that was Harry's favorite section. The other boy didn't notice Harry, nor did any of the other Ravenclaws. Harry ducked away and hid in one of only parts of the library that Ravenclaws didn't frequent: the fiction ally. He had "homework" for Mary, Eliza and Neville, but he could do it later. Harry found a print copy of a play that big Sarah and Professor Sinistra were plotting. It was interesting enough, but Harry decided he really didn't like reading plays. He put the book back and picked out a gaudy, flashy looking heroic quest type story. The hero's name was Harry Potter and he was traveling the world, having adventures, and protecting innocent wizards and witches from the cruel machinations of dark wizards and creatures. A disgusted Harry dropped the book, not even bothering to put it back where he belonged.

He didn't even care if Madame Prince killed him. That book deserved no respect. At all. It should burn. And then Kenneth should burn for being right about Harry Potter inspired fiction. _Merlin _and_ Morgana!_ People _wrote books _about_ him!_ The whole thing was surreally demented! Dementedly surreal! Whichever. Harry slipped away from the library. He was good at moving silently; that helped him avoid all the various Ravenclaws scattered about.

Harry wandered about the castle for a few hours, getting purposefully lost before trying to find his way back to somewhere that he knew. It was a more challenging task that most people normally put upon themselves. Still, it was fun just larking about without really knowing where he was going. He'd told Professor Lupin that he hadn't managed to cast one of his patroni while near a dementor. The professor had yet to locate another boggart for him to practice on and there was no way he'd go outside and try and get a dementor feeding on him. No, that was definitely something he didn't want to do. After getting lost about three different times, Harry worked his way back to the Gryffindor tower. He didn't instantly see any of his friends, which was probably a good thing.

The boy sat down with little Sarah and three second year, one boy and two girls, who were all playing some sort of wizard game that he didn't recognize. "Hi Harry," Sarah said, "want to join?"

"What are you playing?" Harry asked.

"Arthur's Folly," the guy answered, "it's pretty easy to learn if you want to just watch for a few turns."

Watching the game was good. It kept Harry distracted and he didn't have to think about anything. He picked up their names – Ritchie, Clara, and Clementine – pretty quickly. Ritchie, Clara and Clementine seemed pretty close, like Ron, Hermione and he had been, and from what Harry saw, Sarah wasn't really a part of their group. She seemed a bit more like Neville had in the past couple of years. Still… after the past few weeks, Harry wanted to make Sarah feel like she had really, really close friends. Although, it felt like he was making too many assumptions. He'd have to work on those assumptions. "What's playing Quidditch like?" Ritchie asked, bringing Harry into the conversation after a few rounds. "I'd like to play beater, but no one is going to beat out the twins while they're still in school."

"It's fun," Harry shrugged. "I'm a pathetic chaser, but I'm not that bad a beater."

"Really?" Ritchie said. He laid down a hand and won the round, to the overall groans of the girls. "You ready to join?" Ritchie asked.

"Sure."

The younger boy dealt five hands and they started playing the simple trick based game. Harry got killed, but it was fun as a good distraction. The girls were talking about Clara's dancing. She was apparently the wizard version of a ballerina. At least, from what Harry gathered, she danced during the summer and on weekend and spent some of her time working during the day. According to Ritchie, she was really good too. After a while, Clara and Clementine excused themselves, saying they were going to do some homework. Ritchie followed them. Sarah instantly tensed, blushed, and started stuttering.

Harry looked at her.

She looked down. "What?" Sarah hissed. "You offer to take my sister and me in as wards and don't expect _some_ awkward moments about it?"

Harry had no clue how to respond. In a few seconds, Sarah looked up, blushed a brighter red, and the two of them started laughing. The common room was started to fill up. Harry wished they could have another dance party; that had been just plain fun. "Did you ever ask Emma about that talent show of yours?" Harry asked his friend, to break a slight pause.

"Yeah," Sarah shrugged. "She said go for it. I asked Alicia for help; she got Angelina to start telling people to prepare for about four weeks from now. That puts it far enough away that people have some time to prepare and it's not quite into Quidditch season. We'd do it as a Halloween thing. The word's been going around the house."

"No doubt my handlers are going to make me do something for it," Harry grumbled. He looked around the room to see if any of the fourth year girls were about. All six of them were curled into one of the many corners, not far away. "Any ideas?" Sarah blinked. "I think it would be cool to do a one-act play or something, convert a fairytale or something."

"Do you have a specific fairytale in mind?" Sarah asked, pensive. "I still think you should do the basilisk story."

Harry frowned. "I'm not really on speaking terms with Ginny Weasley." He knew Sarah knew who that was. They were roommates; were they not friends? "And I won't relate that story to a public audience without her permission."

"Oh," Sarah looked down at the table. She wove her fingers together. "I was going to show off some of my drawings. Do you think… we could somehow combine my drawing with… something…"

Harry smiled. Was she really so shy? "Do you want to work together, Sarah?"

She looked excited. And eager. And happy. She nodded.

Harry would have said something, but Neville and Able came through the portrait hole and instantly headed for Harry and Sarah's table. Able looked just as demur as always, but Neville had dirt and grime all over him, like he'd just come from the greenhouses. "It's October," Neville said, flopping himself down into one of the chairs. "I _hate_ October." Sarah and Harry blinked. "Plants always behave the worst in October. It's just… ridiculous, this mouth."

"It's only October 2nd," Sarah pointed out, knitting her eyebrows together. "It can't be that bad."

"Do you pay attention in Herbology?"

"Not really…"

"Precisely."

"Does that mean I don't pay attention in Herbology?" Harry asked, because he honestly had no clue what was up with October.

Neville smirked. "Harry, Hermione doesn't even pay proper attention in Herbology. There's a—science to it that she doesn't get. Apart from me, Hannah, Sally-Anne and Gregory, you're probably the best grower in our year. But from what I've seen, everything you know about plants comes from practice and trial and error, like you've done it a lot, but have no love for it. Hannah, Sal, Greg and I are the only naturals for our year."

Harry was struggling to keep up. "Gregory _Goyle_?"

Neville and Able snickered. "Yup," Neville said. "Let's just say he doesn't encourage his talent."

The conversation lulled. Harry figured it would be as good a time as any to ask a few questions. "Hey, Able, why is that the upper years are so small, but third year gets a lot larger? I mean, I get that there's nearly-over forty students in each the second and first year, but there's ten more students in the third year than there is in the fourth and the war wasn't really over…"

Able shrugged. "Any year there's going to be some level of fluctuation, but the best I can say is third year was the young families who'd been at Hogwarts during the war and didn't really want to wait before start a family. It's true that there's definitely a boom after the war, and both you and Neville and who knows how many other people fit that family structure."

"Makes sense," Harry said, "as a sort of twisted generalization."

"Generalize anything and it twists itself," Able said. Surprisingly enough, no one had pulled out a book! When Kenneth and Hermione were with them, Harry was rapidly terming his group of closest friends the most bookish group of the Gryffindors. Especially since with Hermione and little Sarah, they had all but one of the Gryffindor bookworms. It was a little depressing how little the majority of Gryffindors felt about their grades. Sure, the nomahs and the noahs and the nos and the rest of the students did their best and maybe didn't study as hard as they good, but really only the Weasley twins purposefully hide their intelligence. Well, now that Harry had stopped hiding.

"Is that really true?" Kenneth said, popping up from behind Harry and grabbing both the younger boy's shoulders. To his credit, Harry didn't even jump. "If I say that all lima beans are bad, can you really refute it?"

Able rolled his eyes. "Some people _like_ lima beans, Kenneth."

"I do," Hermione said, slipping into a seat at the table. She had two textbooks in her arms, which she let drop to the tabletop with a thump. Sarah jumped a bit. "Besides, they're healthy."

"Hermione," Kenneth said, leaning over Harry's shoulders to stare at the girl, "we love you, but you're an utter _loon_." Hermione rolled her eyes and started to say something, but Neville beat her to actual words.

"Personally, I think all the fifth year boys are crazy," Neville said. He gestured towards the twins, who were barking like dogs and dancing a demented version of the chicken dance. "It's like a rite of passage for you guys."

Sarah, Able, Hermione and Harry all nodded. Kenneth mocked betrayal before hopping into the seat between Hermione and Neville and resting his elbows against the table. "So whatcha we doing?" Hermione opened one of her textbooks. Kenneth closed her textbook. Hermione opened her textbook. Kenneth closed her textbook. Hermione opened her textbook and grabbed Kenneth's hands with both of hers. Sarah closed Hermione's textbook. Hermione huffed, exasperated. Sarah and Kenneth shared a high-five, over Hermione's textbook. Hermione fruffed. Neville, Able and Harry laughed. The textbook remained closed.

"I'm just astonished you all have made it this all without asking if I'm feeling all right," Harry snorted, mostly at himself then at them.

"It's not like you've been hiding all day," Neville said, half-smirking. "If you'd like though—"

"I'm fine," Harry said. The disbelieving look in Hermione's face prompted him to say, "I talked with McGonagall about it." Hermione looked more content at that. Seriously, that girl placed far too much trust in authority.

"Sarah, Harry, you mentioned working together for that Halloween thing? What did you have planned?" That was Able.

The two young students looked at each other and shrugged. Harry figured he could just think things out as he talked. "Well, maybe we could somehow figure out how to arrange her pictures into like a motion picture and I could narrate. It would be pretty cool if we can warp her pictures together, enlarge them, add all sorts of special effects through her own talent and magic."

"That be pretty difficult," Able muttered, "from a magical standpoint. Do you have any pictures already done that you could use?"

Sarah looked like she'd been caught in headlights. She was getting better at talking to Able and Kenneth, but was still mostly comfortable with the third years. "D…depends on what story we do."

Harry spotted Patricia Stimpson, the only older year he'd yet to interact with, move towards one of the more secluded cluster of arm chairs. "If you'll excuse me," he said to his friends, before jumping up and walking with some speed across the common room. Patricia didn't really acknowledge him at all, she just curled into an arm chair and took out what looked like a really, really hefty book all on languages. "Hi," Harry said, sitting down in one of the chairs next to her. "I'm Harry Potter."

"I know," Patricia murmured, "I also know that you know my name. So why bother introducing yourself?"

Harry shrugged. "Because I can. Because you're a Gryffindor and a bookworm and I'm a Gryffindor and I like books. Because I was looking for recommendations of what sort of fiction to read. Because I was curious about the book on languages that you're reading."

Patricia looked more than a little annoyed. "Muggle or magic?" At Harry's affirmation that it didn't matter, she continued. "True fiction, fantasy, or science fiction?"

"No idea."

"What have you read already?"

"Um—nothing?"

"George MacDonald, HG Wells, George Orwell, Isaac Asminov, Mark Twain, JRR Tolkien, and the romantic poets. Those recommendations should keep you for a while. As for this book, it's a study guide Professor Babbling gave me so I can self-study for the additional OWL in magical and muggle languages."

"There's additional OWLs?" Harry asked, resolving not to let Hermione know that.

Patricia took a deep breath. "Yes. If you have an aptitude for languages, I suggest you ask to borrow this book from Professor Babbling. For the OWL, you'll need a very strong understanding of Latin, near fluency in one languages such as French, a basic understanding of three other languages – I'm doing Gaelic, Spanish and German, and at least a minimal understanding of Gobbledygook and Mermish even if there's no physical way for humans to speak most magical languages. Now will you please go away?"

She balanced the book up over her nose.

Huh…

Interesting…

He had enough on his plate as it was, but he loved and was good at Ancient Runes, and the introductory study in Latin he'd been doing was utterly fascinating. It would probably kill him after just a few days but…

That left him with a choice. Go and see Professor Babbling now, or go and find the first year boys and finally finish meeting all the Gryffindors. Eh… Babbling. He nearly raced from the common room, and as such, he didn't catch his friends looking at him and worrying that something was wrong. Harry didn't let the niggling caution in his mind warn him that he was taking too much on at once. He _really_ wanted to do this, for, oh he didn't know why! But he loved Runes and that was nearly another language, and Latin had been oh so helpful in his spell-work classes like Charms, Defense and Transfiguration. He'd even found it helpful in some aspects of Arithmancy and Astronomy, but not as much. Harry found himself in Professor Babbling's office in short order.

The aging professor was grading a recent test they'd taken on some actual runic vocabulary. "Ah, Harry. If you want to see your grade, I believe it's in the finished pile…"

"It's not that," Harry said, panting slightly. He had run so his mind hadn't been able to stop him from doing this. "I was talking to Patricia Stimpson, and she said she's studying for a language OWL?"

Professor Babbling's eyes lit up. "And from your expression, does that mean you would like to do the same?"

"Yes!"

Babbling put aside the papers he was grading. "Having as many OWLs as you can get is very beneficial, Harry. Are you at all worried you'd overwork yourself?"

"Of course," Harry admitted, "but Professor, I've been reading this book on Latin and it's been ever so helpful in some of my regular classes. Wouldn't taking other languages be incredibly helpful?"

"Yes, indeed," Babbling said, "and your grades in Runes is exceptionally high. Do you have any idea as to the languages you'd like to learn? The language examination is the only self-built exam of extra-material—"

He ignored Harry's muttered, "there's more?"

"—and as such, you should be aware of the format. What did Patricia tell you?"

"That you've got to understand Latin," Harry said, "have near fluency in one language, understanding in three other languages, and then be able to understand spoken or written magical languages, like, the ones that we can't talk."

Babbling nodded. "That is the basics of the examination. Latin is a necessity. Different languages, however, are graded on different scales. Learning, say Arabic or Mandarin Chinese, is much more difficult for most people than Spanish. As such, if you choose to be tested on one of the harder languages, you're come out with a better grade, provided that you actually know the material. And as for what Patricia said, that is the bare minimal. You can text near fluency in up to three languages, and basic up to four times. However, Harry, I doubt you'll have the time to learn that many languages. As for the magical languages, there's only four options and you can do all four, or only one. Like I said," he grinned, "it's a very fluid exam. Now, did you have any idea of what you'd like to learn?"

Harry gaped. Information overload. "No."

Babbling stood, turned to stare at his bookshelf, before pulling down a book that must have been three times larger than the light reading that Hermione found Nicolas Flamel in first year. It was scary. "This book holds every possible language on the test, Harry. It would not be possible for you to learn them all." He placed the book on the desk and opened it to the first page. There was a list of the possible language options.

There were only six magical languages: Gobbledygook, Dwarfish, Mermish, Fae, Giant, and Elvish. But the list of Ancient and Modern Languages was almost unfathomable. There was a number beside each language, one to ten (Arabic had a ten.) "I'd like to do Gobbledygook and Mermish, like Patricia. Professor," Harry asked, "is there a difference between Ancient and Modern?"

"Of course, but not so much when it comes to the test. Learning the Modern Languages will give you more ability to go into diplomacy or human relations, while the Ancient Languages are more beneficial when it comes to spell research and development."

That sounded interesting. Harry instantly honed in on the Ancient Languages. "I'd like to do the more Ancient Languages. Do you have suggestions?"

"Hm. Start with Greek and Sanskrit; remember that you must continue with Latin." Greek had a four and Sanskrit had a seven. "Babylonian or Egyptian would be beneficial." They both had high numbers. Harry pointed to Egyptian. "That would be a very difficult exam," Babbling murmured, "but it would look incredibly strong on a resume. I recommend you focus on becoming mostly fluent in either Greek or Egyptian first. Next question, would you like my guidance, or do you wish to continue an entirely self-guided study program?"

"Could you help?" Harry asked, not trusting his ability to stay self-motivated.

"Certainly." Professor Babbling pulled a sticky-note from somewhere. He used sticky-notes? "For clarification, you'd like guidance on Latin, Greek, Sanskrit, Egyptian, Gobbledygook and Mermish to begin with?" At Harry's nod, his Professor scribbled something down. "Take the book, read the introductory section for those languages and the follow-up sections for any language you have time for. You'll want to check in with Professor McGonagall and tell her you're doing this. Come back, say, after class on Friday, and we'll discuss what you've learned."

Harry grabbed the book and raced towards his Head of House's office. He felt elated and motivated and encouraged and he was so excited to learn these languages. What else did this school teach that wasn't publically announced? Professor McGonagall was in her office, and no one was there. Score. She tended to be pretty busy on Saturdays. "What is it, Mr. Potter?"

"Professor Babbling said I should tell you that I'm starting a self-study program for the Language OWL."

McGonagall half-frowned, half-smiled. "If you wish, Mr. Potter. You talked with Miss Stimpson, then?" At Harry's nod, she continued. "I see. You are aware that you can drop out of a self-study program at any time up until the second semester of your fifth year."

"Yes, professor," Harry said. "Professor—"

Oh no. The kid was glowing, and energetic and… he was almost more of a Ravenclaw than Hermione was in some circumstances!

"—would it be possible for me to take the Muggle Studies examination. I grew up with them, so it wouldn't be too hard, right?"

"Many muggleborn students to do that," Professor McGonagall said. "You'll have some prep to do, but it's mostly done in your fifth year, when you're much closer to your exams."

"I'd like to do that," Harry said. He was still glowing. "Professor… what else is out there?"

"Not much, Mr. Potter. The school offers two year electives following your OWL exams in Warding, Economics and Government, Business, Healing, and other material that you don't currently have the necessary knowledge to begin studying. As for additional OWLs, there is the language exam, exams for every basic and third year elective. I believe there is an OWL in muggle sciences, one in math, and one in muggle and magical literature. These are offered at the Ministry, and in special cases at Hogwarts. We do not offer these classes at Hogwarts because some students become over ambitious and these classes were deemed invaluable.

"More opportunities for non-tested opportunities to learn come in later years. If your grades in Transfiguration are good enough, you may begin introductory animagus training. Professor Flitwick offers lectures on enchanting, beginning in the fourth year. There are weekend workshops on obscure magic from around the world offered to sixth and seventh years. That will come later. Learn your languages, Mr. Potter, and don't kill yourself in the process. I'll put you down for self-study in both languages and muggle studies. If, in your fifth year, you believe yourself confident to handle any additional tests beyond language and muggle studies, I will recommend you for consideration of the muggle-based OWLs."

"Thanks Professor," Harry called. He grabbed the hefty language book and darted from her office, probably towards the Great Hall.

o.o.o.o.o.o

At dinner that night, McGonagall placed herself next to Sinistra, who was next to Babbling, who was next to Lupin. Those three teachers were gloating about predicting that – as soon as Harry actually talked to Patricia Stimpson – he would seek out preparing for the language exam. Their gloating was annoying, but McGonagall really couldn't begrudge them the five galleons she'd lost. She'd underestimated Harry. And she hoped as he continued to learn, he'd continue to surprise her.


	10. The Week in Which

_A/N: It's very frustrating to know exactly how Christmas break is going to play out, but also knowing that there's nearly three whole months – October, November and December – that need to be written before I can start playing with Christmas. Well, actually, there's probably going to be a real shopping chapter near the beginning of December, 'cause Harry's practically a trillionaire and he wants to spoil his friends. Silly him. Anyway. Enjoy this chapter._

Chapter Ten

The Week in Which Almost Nothing Goes Wrong

I'm Serious

It Happened

Harry had Quidditch late morning on Sunday. The team was doing _really_ well. Alicia, Angelina and Katie had taken to training together more and more. They were seriously talking about going pro, preferably during Alicia's and Angelina's seventh year and Katie's sixth year. It was doable, too. It wasn't often that a kid went pro while still in school, but they could do it. It was, however, almost unheard of that a sixth year would go pro. It was also almost unheard of that all three chasers of a team would still be in school. Still, if anyone had a chance, it was those three girls. Oliver had talked about the whole team going pro, and they all had the skill for it. The likelihood of them all getting offers from the same team, however, was unlikely. And Harry doubted he'd go pro during his schooling.

But watching Alicia, Angelina and Katie fly was like watching birds. They were absolutely gorgeous. Harry knew he was good. Individually, he was the best flyer on the team, but collectively... those three chasers just worked so well together. Katie had made the team her second year, which was supposedly impossible to do as a chaser. Sure, Harry had made the team that same year (himself a first year) and stolen most of Katie's thunder, but she didn't care. Angelina and Alicia had been reserves their second year and made the team during their third year. The girls were young, brilliant, and dedicated. As much as Oliver wanted to complain about his team, he really, really couldn't. No one thought that any team could even consider challenging the Gryffindor team for another couple of years. They were the Quidditch kings.

The rest of Sunday found Harry in the common room. He was alternating between rereading his first and second year Potions textbooks, and reading the various languages from the huge book Professor Babbling had given him. He'd caught Patricia staring at him from across the common room. Huh. He didn't understand Patricia. At all. Hermione had been satisfied about the huge book when he'd explained it away as some extra reading for Ancient Runes. The poor girls was talking all five electives and somehow using time travel or something to get to her classes and Harry just hadn't found the time to ask her _how_ should could be in two places at once… She was overstressed. He got that. He was _not_ going to tell her there was another OWL she could take.

Although, that might come back to haunt him when she did find out.

Monday brought two periods of Potions, in which Harry had to suffer through a sadistic Snape, a gloating Malfoy, and a silently condemning Ronald. It wasn't all bad, because he was still paired with Tracey Davis, and their potions were consistently turning out good. But Snape had been hinting at a partner change for the past couple of days, and sure enough, at the end of the period, Snape shuffled partners around and Harry ended up with Seamus Finnigan. Well, it could have been worse. Following Potions, Harry had a period of Herbology. He tried to watch Neville, Hannah and Sally-Anne and what they were doing differently from the rest of the class, but he found nothing. Maybe it really was instinctual. However, Professor Sprout announced a four person project and Neville invited him to join himself, Hannah and Sally-Anne. At that group, Sprout had frowned but then said she expected their project to be utterly spectacular.

After Herbology, they had a period of Ancient Runes, which was fun, as always. Following that, Harry grabbed a quick lunch before meeting with Selene Grant in one of the rooms near the Great Hall for about ten minutes. She actually complimented his improvement and told him he was as ready as he'd ever be for the musical part of the auditions on Saturday. They had a double period of Charms after that, and Harry got the variation of the color change charm faster than Hermione did. He didn't beat two of the Ravenclaw geniuses, but that still put him third in that class for the day. That felt great. He, Hermione, Anthony, Kevin, Su, and Morag had been instructed to move onto the next variation. Only Su had gotten it within that class period, but Harry knew he was close. came Care of Magical Creatures, which was pretty boring.

Once classes finished, Harry went to the astronomy tower to have dinner with his favorite professor. They talked about unimportant things, but mostly about the different languages. Sinistra was pretty well read in Latin, and promised to help him should he need it.

After that, Harry joined Neville, Hannah and Sally-Anne in the library to work on their project. They made good headway, and afterwards, they studied together at one of the many tables. Susan and Megan, the other Hufflepuff girls, joined them. Harry helped them all with a Defense essay that was due the following morning. They had good fun and joked about Harry's near ability to name everyone in their year (he kept forgetting Ernie Macmillian and Theodore Nott).

Tuesday, Harry woke to another nightmare and spent the morning talking with Paradise and Sarah about nothing at all. At breakfast, Ron had tried to sit next to him, but the twins had chased him off. Harry ate, then worked up his courage to go sit down among the Gryffindor first year boys. Harry Bellwood was particularly eager to introduce him to Jack Sloper (who'd he already met), Ogden Wester, Charles Loch, and James Northwood. Breakfast turned into a mini-celebration for the more excitable Gryffindors when Harry marched up to Kenneth Towler and named each and every current Gryffindor. Even some of his Hufflepuff friends – well, almost all of the Hufflepuffs in his year – came over and joined the impromptu celebration. It was a lot of good fun.

Classes further increased the mild sense of euphoria building in Harry. He had Defense Against the Dark Arts first, and Professor Lupin was just a spectacular teacher. Following that, Professor Vector returned them their latest math quiz, which Harry had aced. He really liked that Arthimancy class. But then she gave them a group project. It seemed like all the teachers were assigning group projects. For Runes, he was partnering with Tracey for a duo-project. In Arithmancy, he decided to work with Pavarti, Sally-Anne and Wayne. It was a bit of an odd group. After Arithmancy, they had a double period of Transfiguration, in which Harry succeeded, Hermione got frustrated, and Ronald nearly blew up the school. It was an, um, interesting period to say the least. Harry spent lunch at the Hufflepuff table; he met the five fourth years, Zacharias (who he didn't like), Franklin (who was awesome), Logan (who was surprisingly normal), Cornelius (who was rather pompous), and Danielle (who acted just like one of the guys).

After lunch, Harry had History of Magic, followed by a period of Charms and then a lecture period for Astronomy. He did homework for a while, before meeting his team on the Quidditch pitch for a pretty grueling practice. Oliver Wood recognized that he had the glory team, but he still worked them like crazy. After that, the Gryffindors had this strange party where they used these questionnaires that Queenie had written up and they tried to find people who fit each category. Kenneth won. Emma got second. Harry came in third. Ron, Patricia and Cormac were three of the very few people who refused to participate.

Wednesday was a perfectly normal day, thank you very much, in which nothing out of the ordinary happened, no one ended up in the hospital room, and everyone was perfectly content. Oh, Wednesdays.

Thursday was, thankfully enough, a repeat of Wednesday. Just with another great Quidditch practice in the evening.

By Friday, Harry was getting the odd, fidgety feeling that nothing had gone wrong in a whole week. Something was _bound _to go wrong soon. He fidgeted through his classes and through his meeting with Professor Babbling – which went astonishingly well. Harry had dived straight into his new textbook and hadn't surfaced unless someone dragged him out of it. The professor gave him a few worksheets to fill out in Greek and Egyptian, and some readings to accomplish in Latin, before talking for twenty minutes about the Rosetta stone, which, especially for a test involving both Greek and Egyptian, would be vital. Harry loved languages.

Nothing went wrong. Sure, big Sarah had worked herself into a nervous tizzy and the sheer numbers of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and even Ravenclaws and Slytherins, who'd signed up to try out for the play. They'd actually have the ability to _cut_ people, Sarah kept saying. It made Harry feel ever so encouraged. Still. He couldn't help feel nervous that a whole week had gone by and nothing bad happened. When he mentioned it to his group of friends, they laughed but sort of grudgingly admitted he was right. It had been odd week for Harry Potter. A good week, to be sure, but still a bit odd.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Another nightmare hit early Saturday morning. Harry crawled out of bed, grabbed the language textbook, and headed down towards the common room. It was empty. He curled into one of the chairs and studied more into the text on Egypt. He loved the book. It had changed size to be more manageable when he'd asked it to display just Latin, Greek, Egyptian, Sanskrit, and the magical languages. He also had Gaelic open, because that looked like just the most fascinating language. He'd looked at all the modern languages that Patricia was doing, and the ancients just interested him a lot more. Still, he'd recognized a connection between a few of the spells he knew and the Gaelic language, so he figured that would make a nice back up language. The same with Chinese. There were two whole alphabets to learn when learning Chinese; it was far more complicated than Egyptian, so he hadn't done a lot with it.

"You're up already?" Paradise said, perching on the arm of his chair. Harry jumped. He hadn't even heard her come down. He should start paying better attentions to his surroundings; it could be dangerous being so buried in a book.

"Yeah. You are too."

"But you're _studying_ already," Paradise complained, leaning into his shoulder. Their whole position on this arm chair had become pretty normal. If they were talking in the morning, Paradise was almost always sitting on the arm of his chair. It was… normal. "Haven't I told you to stop that?"

"Yes Mom," Harry smirked at her. Paradise rolled her eyes. "You have a favorite class yet?"

"DADA," Paradise answered, immediately. "Professor Lupin is the _best_. I like Charms too. I hate History of Magic. We should get a real teacher for that class."

"We should, but we don't."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Harry said, smiling at his young friend. "Because having a ghost increases the whole magical veneer of this school?"

Paradise knitted her eyebrows together. "What's a veneer?"

Oh _geez_. He really had started reading too much. He knew words that needed to be explained! Oh _no!_ He really _was_ turning into Hermione. _Siiiigh_. "It's like, um, a coating over something. Usually it's like a coat of polish over cheap wood in furniture."

"Oh." After a pause: "They should get rid of Snape too."

"I'm sure if enough people truly wanted him gone, they could get him removed." Harry wasn't really thinking. "Although, Dumbledore definitely trusts him."

Paradise scowled. "At the primary school I sort of went too, they did this petition to get better school lunches. Would a petition work for getting rid of Snape? You know, if we went to the Board of Directors instead of Dumbledore?"

"If you get it to work, Paradise Aster," Harry said, "you are a genius."

Big Sarah tumbled down the girls' stairs, got to her feet, waved to both Paradise and Harry, and dashed from the common room. At a more sedate pace, Emma MacDonald made her way down the stairs. She was still rubbing sleep from her eyes. "I should write a book," Emma whined, throwing herself down into a chair not far away from Harry's, "about how to handle living with the crazy roommate."

Harry chuckled. "I bet all the seventh years could write books about surviving their various roommates."

Emma nodded. "You two doing okay? It's ridiculously early for you to be up…"

"M'fine," Paradise shrugged. Emma looked skeptical, but didn't push any further. "Are you gonna be in the play, Emma?" Paradise asked.

"I don't think so," Emma said, "what about you?"

"No! Harry is, right?" Paradise poked the older boy.

Harry nodded and let the girls talk while he read some more of the Egyptian book. He'd actually managed to read a short sentence earlier. The alphabet - lack of it, in a way - was rather confusing, and so much of the language seemed to relate to their mythology and various gods. It was interesting, and probably teaching him more about mythology than any regular old mythology book. After immersing himself in that one language, he switched to the Latin section, pulled out a piece of paper and started penning a note to Patricia in Latin. It didn't go so great. Harry crumbled up to the parchment and threw it back into his bag. By the time he was willing to pull himself back out of his book, the common room had just started to fill up again. William and little Sarah joined their little group of five, Oliver and Eliza were both doing homework in different parts of the room, and James Northwood had just tumbled down the boys' stairs and was joining the group by the fireplace. Once the textbook went away, Harry started paying attention to the various conversations again.

William and Emma were discussing something with their eyes. No one bothered trying to figure out what. Sarah and William were talking about some museum in the middle of London. Paradise and Emma were still talking about the play. James jumped into the play conversation, and Sarah and William's side conversation slowly died. Everyone seemed oddly focused on the play that day. "Harry," Sarah said, "what part are you hoping to get?"

"Um—" As far as he knew, there were five leader rolls that would probably go to older students. There were several rolls for people to play the original students at Hogwarts and a pretty hefty need for behind the scenes magic casters. "I don't know."

"You're auditioning without having a role in mind?" Paradise asked.

"I'm auditioning because the fourth year girls are making me," Harry retorted, even if that wasn't really entirely true. William and Emma were smirking, like they knew that he wasn't so confident he wouldn't have auditioned anyways, but Paradise, Sarah and James accepted his excuse at face value. Thankfully. "I guess I'd like to play Siga."

"That's a small role!" Paradise protested. "You're better than that!"

Emma studied Harry. "You'd make a good Yager, what with your parseltongue ability. Although, I suppose that while Slytherin was the actual parseltongue, you'd make a better Snake Lord himself." She was grinning.

Harry shuddered. Yager was one of the students; he was Salazar Slytherin's prodigy. "You'd think people would understand that this is a _fictional_ play."

"Don't worry," William said, softly. "I'm sure if you get cast as Salazar Slytherin, no one will hold it against you. No one, that is, but all the current Slytherins."

"See why I want Siga?" Harry complained. "It's a _simple _role, with no strings attached!"

"Harry. Harry. Harry," Sarah cooed. She sounded annoyingly majestic. "You're the Boy-Who-Lived. Nothing you ever do will come with 'no strings attached'."

Harry bashed his textbook against his forehead. He didn't have a table. The textbook made a nice substitute. "You're supposed to be my friends. You're not allowed to use me like that." He wasn't really complaining. He sort of—

Emma raised her eyebrow. "Harry, you'd raise the unwritten prestige letter of declaring yourself an ally of any noble house. Of course, you'd become undeniably attached to that particular house. Your name itself means more than you'd think."

This was normally a question he'd ask Neville, but as he was thinking about it… "Hey, Emma, if I gave a company permission to market a Harry Potter endorsed clothing line—" Emma's eyes went wide. "—would they make money?"

"Hell yeah!" Emma shrieked. "No one's been allowed to market anything with your name attached!" James, William, Sarah and Paradise just stared. "People would start buying Harry Potter merchandize like candy!"

Harry blinked. He coughed. "Um. Excuse me. I've got a couple of letters to write." He was sure his financial portfolio showed who managed that clothing company. If they could start producing celebrity endorsed brand-lines that would increase revenues, right? Oh geez, maybe his lessons with Neville, Mary and Eliza were working better than expected. He was actually sort of feeling like a business man. Harry dashed up to his dorm room. Cormac and Neville were still asleep, but Able was awake and staring at the ceiling. The older boy grunted a greeting, but didn't say anything as Harry pulled out his portfolio and flipped through the massive amounts of paper before he found the name of the clothing-line manager. The manager was a man by the name of Julius Regan. There was a Regan in Gryffindor… he'd have to check and see if they were related. Harry rummaged through his school bag until he found some parchment and a useable quill and ink well.

Penning the letter to Mr. Regan took most of the remaining pre-breakfast time. He'd show it to Neville at breakfast to get an opinion and then go up to the owlery to mail it before auditions. At breakfast, Neville was barely awake, but he read and approved of the letter anyways. Mary seemed especially proud when he showed her. "You're thinking for yourself! Keep doing it!" She'd started laughing a lot and boasting about her top student. As Harry left the Great Hall, he could hear the fourth year girls semi-bickering over which of them Harry liked best. Katie seemed to be winning the argument.

The walk to the owlery was nice. Hedwig was even in a good mood. Harry really did love his owl. She was just a spectacular post owl, his first real friend, _everything._ She winged away with the letter to Mr. Regan with a hooted promise to wait for a reply. Gringotts owls had been arriving for him every so often now, but it seemed as if many owls could manage to find him, even at Hogwarts. He'd have to research and see if there was anything that could be keeping miscellaneous owls from finding him. Hm…

After watching Hedwig fly away for a good ten minutes, Harry decided to run for his audition. He did not want to give big Sarah and the rest of the Gryffindor girls an excuse to flay him alive. He'd gotten signed up for the second audition slot. They were holding auditions in one of the small unused classrooms in the History of Magic wing. A Ravenclaw seventh year was stationed outside the classroom, as like, a something or other. She was one of Sarah's close friends, and from what Harry could gather, pretty heavily involved in the production of the play.

"Hi Potter," the girl said, cheerfully. "You're a bit early."

"Better than late," Harry replied.

"True." The girl stuck out her hand and the two of them shook hands. "Adrianna Sampson, at your service."

Harry stuck out his tongue, more at himself than her. "No one ever seems to need to be introduced to me. It's a bit annoying, actually."

Adrianna laughed. "I'd imagine. So, Potter, who do you want to play?"

"You too?" Harry whined. "Well, I'd like to be Siga, but everyone else seems to think I'd make a good Yager."

"You could probably be Daniel," Selene Grant said, from behind Harry. He jumped, turned around, and stared at his frowning tutor. "You've definitely got the voice for him. I can see Yager in you too though." Daniel was widely recognized as one of the harder roles in the play. In the play, Daniel was the son of Faolan, who was one of the leads.

"You're the third slot?" Adrianna asked. She didn't seem to recognize Selene. Hm. Fourth year Slytherin. Seventh year Ravenclaw. What was the overlap for those groups? Selene nodded.

"Did they sound proof the room?" Harry asked, peering at the closed door. "I don't hear anything."

"Yup," Adrianna said, "cast the spell myself."

The door opened and a small Hufflepuff that Harry didn't recognize dashed out, screaming. From inside the room, Harry vaguely heard Sarah saying "I wasn't that harsh, was I?" He guessed the sound proofing only worked with the door closed.

"You can head on in now," Adrianna said.

Harry had the most annoying feeling that he was proceeding into a den of great danger.

o.o.o.o.o.o

It was a weird Saturday. People kept disappearing from their ordinary routines for auditions. After his, Harry retired to the library to work on his Runes project with Tracey. When she had to leave for an audition, he moved over to sit with a bunch of Hufflepuff second years. Harry Vanette was there, so at least he knew _someone _at their table. They were all sort of collectively struggling through a Potions assignment. It was odd. Harry was knowledgeable enough to help them. In Potions. He nearly had a freak out. Still, it felt satisfying to meet even more people. Harry mentally added Gregory Adams, Nat Shacklebolt (who didn't use her full first name), Brianna Whitby, and Xavier Jones to the list of people that he knew.

After about an hour, the Hufflepuffs decided to leave, so Harry bounced towards what looked like a group of fourth year Ravenclaws. They were a little stand-offish, but let him stick around at their table as long as he was working on something. He hadn't really brought anything to work on, so he grabbed a random book from the Defense Against the Dark Arts section and just started reading it. Nora and Eddie Carmichael were the most welcoming of the group. They introduced Harry to Leanne Hooch, Marcus Belby, and Lance Stevens. Harry vaguely recognized Leann as being a good friend of a few of the Gryffindor first year girls. Nora and Leann left a few minutes after Harry joined them, however, heading up the History of Magic wing for auditions. The whole school really was getting involved. Lance said he had his auditions later, but then went back to the assignment he was working on.

It was close to lunch when Harry spotted Kenneth sitting with a bunch of students from all four Houses. They were probably all in the same grade; maybe studying the same subject. Harry threw caution to the wind, snuck up on Kenneth and stole his textbook. The older boy nearly went sparse. Still, he took it in good humor when he caught Harry and invited him to join them. "Not," Kenneth growled, "that I'm trying to help in your ridiculous campaign." Still, Kenneth made his friends make room for Harry and named each person. "Callus Warrington and Adrian Pucey, Slytherin. Rodger Davies and Sally Wood, Ravenclaw. And Kaitlin Towler, Hufflepuff."

Harry blinked. "You have a twin and I wasn't told? Kaitlin, I need embarrassing stories, quick!" Kaitlin laughed. Kenneth paled and looked as though he wanted to rewind time and never, ever introduce Harry to his sister.

"Would you quiet down, Potter?" Sally said, "You'll get us thrown out!"

"Sorry," Harry said, mentally noting that this was the third Wood he'd met. And she wasn't in the same house as either her older brother or younger sister. That was actually pretty cool. "Anyway, hi, bye. Annoy Kenneth for me." He left them to their studying and decided to head down for an early lunch.

He should have been exhausted by now. Instead, he seemed oddly… energized. The Great Hall was not empty, but pretty bare. Patricia Stimpson was reading a book at the front end of the Gryffindor table. Harry started towards her, but she looked up and glared at him, as if daring him to not come any closer. Harry retreated towards the Hufflepuff table and sat down across from a lonely looking Sally-Anne Perks. The girl was staring at a letter, her face twisted into a very heart-wrenching expression.

"What's… wrong?" Harry asked, when she didn't look up.

Sally-Anne jumped a little before focusing on him. She hiccupped. "My… my mom's in the hospital. She's… got this terminal cancer… The doctor's think she doesn't have long."

Harry ducked under the table and wormed his way so he could sit directly next to Sally-Anne. He wrapped an arm over her shoulder, and she buried her face into his neck, just beginning to shake with sobs. The two of them got some odd looks from the older Hufflepuffs, but as none of them moved to help, Harry wasn't about to let his friend suffer uncomforted. Or something like that. "Do you need to go see her?" Harry asked. "Do you want to?"

"Can I?" Sally-Anne whispered, her voice breaking.

Harry scanned the staff table. Sure enough, Professor Sprout was one of the teachers already in the Great Hall. "I don't know. Let's go ask Professor Sprout." The sniffling girl managed to stand with Harry's support and he led her up towards the staff table. Sprout seemingly realized something was wrong and met them halfway, in the no-man's-land between staff table and the student tables.

"Miss Perks?" Professor Sprout said, "whatever is the matter?"

"My mom's hurt," Sally-Anne mumbled towards the floor. "I want to go see her."

Sprout smiled sadly. "Of course. Come with me, Miss Perks. Mr. Potter, thank you for your support."

"Of course," Harry said. His professor led the young Hufflepuff out a side door of the Great Hall, which left Harry standing in the middle of no-man's-land with all three of the present professors staring at him. Typical. The stares were just oh, so typical. Harry loafed back to the Gryffindor table and sat down across from Patricia. She glared, but when Harry didn't speak, the girl went back to her book.

And life went on.

Normally.

Which was very much an odd feeling.


	11. Hi

Chapter Eleven

…Hi…

Hedwig arrived with a letter from Julius Regan during the Sunday morning breakfast post. Harry made the mistake of sitting next to the sixth years while his close group of friends was all on his other side. He also made the mistake of being careless with the envelope, so the return name was visible. He made the mistake of wincing when Ruth Turpin grabbed the envelope. "Harry?" Ruth asked, "Why are you writing to Temperance's dad?"

Harry stuttered for a second. "I own the clothing company he manages," Harry managed to choke out. All three of the sixth years just stared at him. He ducked behind Julius's letter and tried to forget about the stares. The letter was nothing special. Mr. Regan just expressed some general questions and comments that could be answered easily enough. He seemed to understand how beneficial making clothes endorsed by Harry Potter would be. It was a little weird, having an adult writing to him in the tone of a subordinate. Okay. It was a lot weird. From what Harry could tell, Mr. Regan was ready and willing to go and already starting attending to everything that needed to be started before they could actually start designing a new line of clothes.

Huh. "You're my dad's boss?" Temperance said, her voice holding a mixture of disbelief and humor. "Well, that's… urm…"

"I think Harry's a lot of peoples' boss," Hermione said from Harry's left. "He just doesn't realize it yet."

Harry squeaked. The girls laughed at him. And Harry didn't mind. In an odd way, he almost liked being laughed at, at least by the Gryffindors. It made him feel accepted. Was that normal? Was anything he did or said or felt anywhere close to normal? Hannah and Susan got up from the Hufflepuff table and inserted herself between Harry and Hermione. Susan stayed standing behind her friend. Hannah poked Harry in the side. "Okay. Spill. You know what happened to Sally-Anne." Neville and Hermione both looked up, obviously curious about their conversation.

"Not particularly," Harry said. "Yesterday, she got a letter saying her mom was in the hospital or something. And so I took her to Professor Sprout and that's that." Neville's eyebrows furrowed, concerned.

The normally cheerful, energetic Hannah sighed. Susan looked particularly grim. "I hope her mom's okay," Susan said, "she's not back yet, and Professor Sprout refuses to tell us when she might get back."

"How's Megan doing?" Harry asked. All four of the Hufflepuff girls seemed especially close; Megan and Sally-Anne were no exception.

Susan and Hannah exchanged a glance. "Not so great," Hannah admitted. "I guess… well. Let us know if you hear anything."

"Yeah, same here," Harry said, speaking for himself and Neville, who looked just as worried as the Hufflepuff girls did. "And tell Megan that things will work out, okay?" Susan and Hannah nodded and moved back to their own table. Harry looked down at his food, any appetite he had for breakfast completely gone. At least it was Sunday. He'd get to fly later. Harry picked at his food a few seconds, before looking up to see Hermione watching him, speculative. "What?"

"It's just… funny," Hermione said, shrugging. "The beginning of this year, it was me. And now it's me and Sarah and Paradise and the other first year girls and the six fourth years and the four seventh and sixth years and Sally-Anne and Megan and Susan and Hannah and Tracey and Millicent and Angelina and Alicia and whoever Patricia is and… I guess there's the problems with Ginny and Luna—" Harry winced. "—but you've just got more friends that are girls than guy friends. And here I thought you'd never expand your horizons."

Harry stared at her. Able, who hadn't really been paying attention, chuckled. "But," Harry protested, "there's Neville and Able and Kenneth and all the Ravenclaws in our year and Wayne and Harry and Harry and Andy and Geo—"

"Really?" Hermione interjected. "Face it, Harry. Excepting Neville, Able and Kenneth, and maybe Wayne and Justin, and maybe a few of the Ravenclaw boys, all your actual friends are girls. You've got a ton of people-who-could-become-friends though, both genders. And it's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of."

Able's expression was something between humor and horror and more humor. Neville just looked a bit confuzzled. Sarah, who was on Hermione's right, just smirked at Harry. "It's all true, Harry," Sarah said. "Just think, if you ever need a date somewhere, there's a multitude of people you could ask!"

Harry bashed his head against the table. Repeatedly. When he finally stopped, all he could see was Ruth Turpin grinning about how effective headbashing was, Hermione and Sarah embroiled in a conversation about who'd he ask to a dance if there was a dance the following day, and Neville and Able looking from Harry to girls with alternating expressions of humor and horror.

ARGH!

Headdesk.

"Don't kill yourself, Harry," Angelina said, fisting her hand into Harry's hair as she walked past. Her hand kept his head up. "I hate to have to break in a new seeker." She let go and kept walking.

Headdesk.

o.o.o.o.o.o

He made it back to the common room before the after breakfast rush. Hermione and Able had gone straight to the library and Neville stayed in the Great Hall, so he was alone in returning to Gryffindor. He'd arranged to meet Tracey about their project for Runes, but that wasn't until much later that day. Neville and Millicent where supposed to join them at some later time. That should be fun. It was a pity that there were only Potions and his various electives that he had in common with the Slytherins in his year. Outside of Tracey and Millicent, it had been rather difficult to make inroads into Slytherin. He knew Selene, but was still on last name terms with almost everyone else. Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson were in Arithmancy and Blaisie Zabini was in Care of Magical Creatures along with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. He was definitely interested in actually getting to know Theodore, Daphne, and Blaisie, but he didn't quite know if he could handle giving Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson any second chances.

Harry sighed and collapsed into one of the fluffy arm chairs. The house prejudices were really bad. Sarah Bathsheba climbed through the portrait hole and tacked a piece of parchment to the announcement board. She looked exhausted. "Hiya, Harry," Sarah said, turning away from the announcements. "You might want to look at the cast list before Professor Sinistra announces that they're up."

Harry pushed himself up from his couch and joined Sarah in front of the board. It looked like she'd been up all night.

_Five Founders Cast List_

_Helga Hufflepuff – Daffodil Daywood (Hufflepuff 7__th__)_

_Salazar Slytherin – Icarus Crane (Slytherin 7__th__)_

_Godric Gryffindor – Eric Kettleburn (Gryffindor 7__th__)_

_Rowena __Ravenclaw – Sarah Stebbins (Hufflepuff 6__th__)_

_Faolan O'Flannery – Vale Kensington (Ravenclaw 6__th__)_

_Daniel Son of Spencer – Declan Hopkins (Hufflepuff 5__th__)_

_Moriel Michigan – Iris Crane (Hufflepuff 7__th__)_

_Yager Son of Yan – Harry Potter (Gryffindor 3__rd__)_

_Helena Ra__venclaw – Selene Grant (Slytherin 4__th__)_

_Moriel Harris – Queenie Babbling (Gryffindor 4__th__)_

_Julius Greene – Able Vane (Gryffindor 4__th__)_

_Kaka the Gypsy – Padma Patil (Ravenclaw 3__rd__)_

_Orena the Gypsy – Pavarti Patil (Gryffindor 3__rd__)_

_Siga – Eddie Carmichael (Raven__claw 4__th__)_

_Cleo – Eliza Kirke (Gryffindor 4__th__)_

_Daisy – Gracelyn Zale (Slytherin 2__nd__)_

_Rogan – Logan Reinhold (Hufflepuff 4__th__)_

_Princess Arianna – Samantha Fawcett (Ravenclaw 5__th__)_

_Prince Matthew – Cedric Diggory (Hufflepuff 6__th__)_

_Katia (squib girl) – Artemis In__graham (Hufflepuff 2__nd__)_

_Anyone who auditioned may be asked to perform in a non-speaking or understudy capacity. These rolls will be addressed when necessary_

_Magic Crew: Sarah Bethsheba, Matthew Bradley, William Caric, Miguel Chambers, Emma MacDonald, Corbin Matthus, Adrianna Sampson, James Botts, Penelope Clearwater, Sparkle Daywood, Ruth Turpin, Steven Vector, Zachary Waller, Fae Daniels, Jacob Dare, Brian Hooper, Kaitlin Towler, Fred and George Weasley, Horizon Zale, Demelza and Dakota Robbins, Hermione Granger, and Su Li_

_Anyone who auditioned for the magic-crew may be asked to assist those chosen to perform _

"Wow," Harry said, staring at the sheet of paper. "Hermione's gonna be so pleased."

Sarah coughed. "Yeah. She and Su both. Third years on the magic crew is risky, but the two of them will keep up. They're pretty great at charms."

"I'm beating Hermione in that class." It was boastful and he knew it, but this was just big Sarah…

She smacked him on the back of the head. "You're in the play, so don't complain, genius. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go sleep." She darted up the girls' stairs, disappearing in short order.

Harry moved back to his favorite armchair. He should have gone up to his dormitory and get a textbook, but he sort of wanted to see people react to the cast list. He was pleased. He really was. He'd get to work primarily with a Slytherin boy he didn't know, Able, Queenie, Selene, and a Hufflepuff he didn't know. Of course, he'd work with the whole cast. Yager had a semi-constant presence in the play. That presence annoyed Helena Ravenclaw (Selene). Oh, this was going to be fun.

Queenie and Eliza were two of the first people to come tumbling through the portrait hole. They scanned the cast list, squealed, and started jumping up and down and hugging each other. Queenie seemed more excited than Eliza, but still, they were _bubbling._ Queenie spotted Harry and just kept celebrating. She was obviously happy. Eric Kettleburn came next, and he looked absolutely relieved. After that, Harry couldn't keep track of the individual people. He caught Able Vane discretely triumphant, Cormac McLaggen befuddled and disappointed, Hermione Granger simply exultant, both Robbins girls immensely relieved, and Lavender Brown vocally upset. Harry eventually tired of watching the various reactions, so he headed up to his dormitory for his Runes, Charms, and language books.

He might as well head to the library right now…

"Hey, Harry," Andy seemed rather removed from the emotions running through the common room. "Professor McGonagall wants to see you."

Okay, so that changed his plans. Harry managed to avoid Queenie and Hermione, who seemed to be the most insistent to find him. He made it through the common room unscathed and to McGonagall's office fairly quickly. What did she want to see him about? Professor Sinistra and Paradise were waiting in McGonagall's office. His Head of House looked particularly grim. She ordered him and Paradise to sit while she and Professor Sinistra stood over them. Aurora fidgeted, like she didn't know whether to be nervous or excited.

"I promised both of you that we'd arrange for you to permanently escape from any abusive situation," McGonagall said, as an introduction. Paradise tensed and reached towards Harry, obviously seeking support. He gave her his hand and she clung. "We need to visit a department of the Ministry of Magic, but Headmaster Dumbledore has been unsupportive of taking you immediately. We do this without his permission."

McGonagall was acting against Dumbledore? "Harry," she continued, "I'm afraid I must apologize to you, as I was with the Headmaster when he placed you with the Dursley's. I did not force my protests to be heard and for that, I am sorry." Harry sucked in a breath, but he couldn't blame here. _Dumb__ledore_ put him there? _Intentionally?_ He bit his lip and clung back to Paradise. "Harry, you have arranged to be taken in by Professor Sinistra, correct?" He nodded. "And Paradise, I do not know if you aware, but your friend here is incredibly rich and has offered to take you in as a ward. Do you know what that means?"

Paradise's eyes widened when she looked at Harry, but she shook her head. Harry swallowed. "For all intents and purposes, you'd be my sister, I think." He said, looking at McGonagall for confirmation. "You'd be under my support and protection, and through me, Professor Sinistra would be your guardian. That is, if you'd like." Paradise started nodding, very, very rapidly.

McGonagall actually smiled. "Then let's go finalize some paperwork." She took a handful of floo powder and handed it to her fellow teacher. Sinistra stepped into the fireplace, said: Ministry of Magic, the Department of Miscellaneous: Family Court.

There was a Department for miscellaneous stuff? Harry wondered, amazed. And Family Court stuff was considered miscellaneous? That seemed a little odd. Little Paradise was staring at the floo powder, astonished. "It's okay," Harry promised her, "it's just a method of transportation." He stepped towards the fire place, accepted a handful of floo powder, said the passcode, and tumbled through the system towards the Ministry of Magic. Harry tumbled out on a plush red carpet at the feet of Professor Sinistra, Madame Pomfrey, and a woman he didn't know.

"Do try and stay on your feet, Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey said, "I hate to have to patch you up for a fireplace injury." Paradise tumbled through the fire, falling headlong onto Harry. Sinistra bent to help both of them stand. McGonagall stepped out of the fireplace, stately, demurely, and perfectly intact.

"Are you ready to proceed, Professor McGonagall?" said the woman that Harry didn't know.

"Yes, Madam Ayna. Miss Aster and Mr. Potter, as requested, and you remember Professor Sinistra?"

The woman studied the two children. "Indeed," she muttered, absent-mindedly. "All the evidence from Madam Pomfrey is in place; we can proceed with the finalization when the children have made their statements. Professors, if you could pleas leave the room…"

At this, Harry actually looked around the room. It was homey; the walls were beige, the carpet full, and thick and a couple of armchairs arranged in lopsided circle on the opposite side of the room. Madam Ayna was guiding their professors out a door that was opposite the fireplace. Paradise slipped her hand into his and pressed against his side. She was scared. So scared. She probably had no more knowledge of how this was going to work than he did. "Mr. Potter, Miss Aster, if you would join me…" Madam Ayna gestured them to the armchairs.

Harry picked one of the plushier looking ones. Paradise sat on the arm of his chair. Ayna frowned, but did not ask her to move. "Now, children, your professors have filed to extract you from your current homes and guardians and all seems to be in order for that to proceed. What I'd like to ask you, Mr. Potter first, what do you think of the situation?"

Harry bit his lip. It was a big… situation, as Madam Ayna termed it. "Well, I definitely don't want to go back to the Dursleys. I'd do anything to not go back there." That wasn't true. He wouldn't hurt anyone, or let anyone get hurt, but if he could buy something that would keep him away from that horrid place… "It was horrid; my aunt and uncle hate magic; they hate me. I want to get out."

Ayne nodded. Next to her, an automated quill was scribbling, presumably a transcript of what he'd just said. "And what do you think of being adopted by Professor Sinistra?"

Harry hadn't heard the word adopted before. Well, not in regards to him. If felt… good. "I trust Aurora." He rarely used her first name, but it seemed fitting here. "She's supported me, as an adult, when no else did. I trust her. I would like to be adopted by her." He could see in Ayna's eyes that the trust thing had gone a long way towards finalizing this whole thing. How many abuse victims had she worked with? Did she understand how abjectly hard it was to trust _anyone?_

"And what about you, Miss Aster, what do you think about being taken away from your parents?"

She opened her mouth, but didn't say anything. When she could finally speak, all that came out was a mouse-like "Please."

Madam Ayna nodded. "Don't worry, Paradise. You won't have to go back there. And what are your thoughts of becoming Professor Sinistra's ward?"

"I don't really know her. She's only been my teacher for a month," Paradise said, her voice still soft. "But I trust Harry. And if Harry trusts her, then… then I want to. I want to stay with Harry."

"Good, good. Mr. Potter again, your professors said you offered to take Paradise in as your ward. Would you please tell me what, in your understanding, that would imply?"

Harry swallowed. "Well, I'd be financially responsible for her. She'd be a part of my house, like, officially my sister. What I'm not clear on is Professor Sinistra's responsibility towards Paradise if she's my guardian and Paradise is my ward."

"Your financial status makes this a rather unique case," Madam Ayna said, "as does Headmaster Dumbledore's reluctance to move you from your relatives. For all intents and purposes, Professor Sinistra would represent you in matters that you are not capable of handling yourself. For example, on forms where you need a guardian's signature, it would be hers. The financial aspect would be for you to work out. That would be the same between Professor Sinistra and Miss Aster. Do you have any problems with this system? Do you have any objections to taking Paradise as a ward?"

"No! I offered!"

Madam Ayna smiled. "Well, I just need your both your signatures and we've finalized this process. Notices will be sent to your respective previous guardians, alerting them that they've been relieved of parental control." She presented a form to both Harry and Paradise, providing a quill for them to sign with. Harry scratched out his name before passing the quill to Paradise. She struggled a little with the archaic writing utensil, but managed her name just fine. The forms glowed a soft blue color when their names had been completed. Madam Ayna waved her wand at the door and invited Professors McGonagall and Sinistra and Madam Pomfrey back into the room. "Everything has been finalized. Aurora, here are your children. I'll see the three of you in six-months for an evaluation."

Harry made eye contact with his favorite professor; she looked happy. He felt happy. He'd never have to go back to the Dursley's ever again! He'd get to live with Aurora and, and, and oh it felt good! McGonagall and Pomfrey moved to the fire, both tossing floo powder, but calling the names of two different Hogwarts places. McGonagall headed back to her office, and Pomfrey to the infirmary. Harry and Paradise joined Professor Sinistra by the fire. She told them the floo passcode for her office. Harry went first. Paradise followed. Both of them scrabbled out of the way as their professor stepped through.

In the privacy of her office, Sinistra found herself assaulted by a hug from Harry. A hug from the kid who still struggled to understand why people would ever touch each other! She hugged him back, trying to express what she couldn't stay in words. Harry pulled back, grinning. Sinistra turned to the pale, small little girl and opened her arms. Paradise moved forward, tentatively, and Aurora hugged her, gently. When Paradise pulled away, she was smiling.

Harry claimed his usual hard-backed chair and Paradise studied its arm for a few seconds before sitting in the other chair. Aurora conjured her own chair, not wanting to sit behind her desk in the teacher-student configuration. "Paradise, I see Harry outside of classes once a week and would like to offer that same thing to you. Say, on Thursday evenings, would you like to come here so we can get to know each other better?"

Paradise nodded.

"Oh good," Sinistra said. She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "I'm exhausted. We were up for a long time finalizing the cast list."

Paradise perked up. She turned to Harry. "You got Yager, right? That's awesome."

And the small, newly minted family stayed tucked away until Sunday lunch, enjoying just being together.

o.o.o.o.o.o

At lunch, most every Gryffindor knew where Harry and Paradise had disappeared to. Apparently, McGonagall had told Emma MacDonald who told William Caric and was overheard by Lavender Brown who told Pavarti Patil who told Mary MacDonald and by then, it was impossible to keep quiet the fact that Harry Potter and Paradise Aster were now the Astronomy Professor's children. No one seemed to mind. It was news, but it was still overshadowed by discussions about the cast list.

The two of them sat next to each other at lunch, with Hermione and Neville next to Harry and Lily and Vicky across from their group. Halfway through the meal, the first year Aria marched up to them and sat down next to Paradise. The two girls looked at each other before Aria coughed and said "Hi, cuz. Welcome to the Sinistra world." Paradise grinned.

Harry choked on a swallow of pumpkin juice.

The first year girls snickered at him. "You didn't know my last name?" Aria said, still snickering. "Professor Sinistra's my aunt. Welcome to the family." She got up and bounced back to sit with Julia, Emerald, and Romilda.

Harry and Paradise had barely finished eating when Eric Kettleburn, the seventh year, cleared his throat behind them. "Harry, Paradise, can I talk to the two of you?" They both nodded and followed Kettleburn from the Great Hall. He didn't lead them far away, just to one of the unused classrooms on the same floor as the Great Hall. There was a whole group of people clustered in the room. Harry instantly recognized Queenie Babbling. There was a Ravenclaw, older boy that he didn't know, and then a boy and girl, both Ravenclaws, that simply had to be siblings. Harriett Patterson lounged in one of the corners. There were three kids who looked younger than Paradise, and none of them were wearing school uniforms.

What in Merlin's name was going on?

"This is really not fair," Harriett complained. "It pushes the balance in Gryffindor's favor so much. And we _still_ don't have a Hufflepuff."

"I'm gonna be a Hufflepuff!" The oldest of the younger kids said, glaring at Harriett.

"Harry, Paradise," Eric said, "welcome to the Concordia of Staff Kids."

Queenie waved. "Introductions! You know me and Eric. This is Harriett Patterson, Steven Vector," the older Ravenclaw "Leann and Orion Hooch" the sibling Ravenclaws "Tyler Pomfrey" the eldest of the others "his sister Ciara, and Rebecca Hooch. We just call her Becks. Everyone, welcome Harry Potter and Paradise Aster."

"We know who they are," Ciara grumbled.

"Yeah," Rebecca said, "one's famous and none of you will shut up about them!"

Leann bounced Rebecca on the back of the head. "Behave, you."

Harry and Paradise stared, not quite sure how to take it all in. Eric chuckled. "We're just a collection of the kids and grandkids of various staff members. Officially, I should be gone as my granddad retired, but they haven't bothered to kick me out yet. Queenie is the Runes teacher's granddaughter; Steven, the Hooches, the Pomfreys, and you two are the direct responsibilities of Vector, Hooch, Pomfrey and Sinistra respectively. And Harriett here and is the semi-self-estranged, oldest granddaughter of Professor McGonagall."

Harriett snickered. "I think I gave her a heart attack when the hat said Slytherin."

"Not funny, 'riett," Tyler insisted.

Harry and Paradise still stared, struggling to take the whole spectacle in.

"There's others, too," Queenie said, half amused by the two Gryffindor's expressions. "But as Kingsley and Courtney – 'riett's siblings – live with their parents and not their grandmother, so they won't be official staff kids until they get here. We don't count nieces and nephews, 'cause that would be too many people. You also have to be eight to be an official member, but we don't have any kids younger than eight, although, isn't Court-"

"Nah. She's eight."

"Far too many people," Steven interjected. "I still don't get the grandkids."

"Tradition, Steven," Leann argued. It looked the two of them had had that discussion a lot.

"The two of you are so getting married," Queenie interjected, smirking. She and Orion exchanged a high-five. Harry couldn't figure out why.

"Queenie!" Leann grumbled.

"Oh, it's not just you," Harriett said, "Tyler and Becks are just destined for each other." Tyler made a face. Becks blushed bright red.

"Does that put you and Orion together?" Paradise asked. Harry blinked at her. He still hadn't sorted out everyone's name.

Harriett and Orion both violently shook their heads. The rest of the Concordia nearly _died_ laughing.

"This is just an informal meeting," Steven said, directing it towards Paradise and Harry, "so we could introduce you and tell you the rules. They're simple enough. We met once a month, just to check in and make sure no one's having any real problems. We don't all have to be friends," here he glanced pointedly at Leann, "but we're not enemies here. If anyone asks for help, especially Tyler, Ciara or Becks, 'cause they aren't students, you help them. We aren't public knowledge, either, so stay silent and don't talk about the little three with anyone outside this room. Capice? I'm going to go study now." He left. Leann followed him out, chattering about how rude he was. It was humorous.

Eric left shortly after that, citing that he was a NEWT student and needed to go study. When Queenie left, that made Harry the oldest person in the classroom. Which was… odd, to say the least. Paradise started talking with Ciara and Becks, while Harriett and Orion just stood around, silently. Tyler worked up the courage to ask Harry about Quidditch and the two boys chatted for a good while. Orion and Harriett slipped away, leaving the two newest staff kids with the staff kids that weren't students, but neither Gryffindor cared. The younger kids were fascinating.

After a while, the class room door opened and Madame Pomfrey stuck her head in. "You kids are still here?"

Tyler startled and looked at his watch. It was after one o'clock. "Yes. Sorry, Mum, just lost track of the time."

Pomfrey didn't look mad in the slightest. "Understandably. Still, you two, Becks, you should head back to the staff wing. Mr. Potter, Miss Aster, have a good Sunday. Please don't let the Concordia go to your head. They're all a bit crazy."

"Mum!" That was Ciara.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to reevaluate most everything he knew about the school nurse. And Professor McGonagall had grandchildren! And one of them was a Slytherin! His head felt like it wanted to explode.


	12. Beginning to Heal

Chapter Twelve

Beginning to Heal

Harry went to classes.

Harry did homework for his classes.

When Harry didn't understand something, he asked for help.

Harry fought with himself, constantly afraid of humiliation but _knowing_ that asking for help shouldn't be seen as humiliating.

Harry played Quidditch.

Harry loved Quidditch.

Harry studied Latin, Egyptian, Greek, Sanskrit, Babylonian, Gobbledygook and Mermish under the guidance of Professor Babbling.

Outside of his guided study, Harry read fairy tales, devoured Tolkien, and began acquainting himself with Gaelic, Chinese, Hebrew, and Arabic.

Harry spend time with his friends, people who would become his friends, and people he barely knew.

From the time he woke up to the time he fell into bed, Harry was busy and he loved it.

Even with the threat of Sirius Black looming over everyone in the castle, Harry threw himself into his third year and loved it.

o.o.o.o.o.o

The first play practice was the Saturday after auditions. The magic crew was meeting in Professor Flitwick's office and all of the actors were supposed to report to a huge room on the second floor that was hardly ever used. When Harry arrived at the auditorium, he almost died in shock. He hadn't even known that Hogwarts _had_ an auditorium. Professor Sinistra, as the staff director of the play, was waiting for the students. Harry had walked over with Pavarti, because he was trying to honestly like her and Lavender, but her constant talk of stuff he had no way of understanding was hard to handle.

As soon as was politely possible, Harry left her and latched on to Able, Queenie and Eliza who were standing center stage and looking out at the empty auditorium. "It's fascinating," Eliza was saying, to Queenie. Able nodded in response, but Harry never did find out what, exactly, was fascinating. More people started arriving. Harry noticed two girls, probably second years, hanging off to the side of the group. They both looked terrified. They weren't looking terrified together though, which was a bit odd. Harry left his friends and worked his way over to the first of the two girls. Before he could introduce himself, the girl did it for him. "Lord Potter," she said, looking down. Her robes were green and silver. Slytherin.

"Hi. Will I have to instruct you to treat me like an equal, or are you comfortable just ignoring that slightly awkward fact?"

The girl looked up, her eyes flashing with some emotion. Then she just shrugged. "I'm Gracelyn of the Noble and Ancient House of Zale. Please, call me Grace."

"Awesome, call me Harry. You're Emerald's sister, aren't you?" There was a first year Gryffindor named Emerald Zale.

"Yes. She is my younger sister. Horizon, fifth year, is my older sister."

"Want to come with me and stop the nerves of another kid?" He discretely gestured to the other girl.

"That's an Ingraham," Grace said, skeptical. "I can't—"

"She a nomah?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Grace affirmed.

Harry was actually a little surprised that the abbreviation was used outside of Slytherin. "Well, same here," Harry said. He moved the few steps across the hall to great the Hufflepuff 2nd year. It seemed odd to have a Slytherin showing deference to a Hufflepuff, but Harry still didn't really understand the whole noble system. Grace followed him across the stage and stopped just a few feet away from the Hufflepuff girl. He knew he'd seen her name on the cast list, but he honestly couldn't remember what it was. "Hi, Miss Ingraham?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, what can I do for you?"

"Call me Harry, for one. You know Grace?"

The Hufflepuff nodded. "We do attend classes together." She smiled at Gracelyn. "You're quite accomplished in Herbology."

Grace nearly squeaked.

"We're all students here," she said, with a slight roll of her eye. "Could you please not treat me like I'm so much better than you?"

Hesitantly, Grace nodded.

"I like you," Harry said, smirking. He stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Harry."

"Artemis," she said, shaking his hand. "But informally, I go by Emi."

By then, nearly the whole cast had arrived. Selene Grant was watching him and Gracelyn with a cautious, thoughtful look on her face. She seemed slightly surprised that he would willingly talk with a Slytherin over his Gryffindor friends. The Patil twins were standing together, chatting away. Able, Queenie and Eliza were still center stage. Eric Kettleburn caught Harry's eye and smiled, but returned to his conversation with the seventh year Slytherin that would be playing the villain. Daphne Greengrass, one of the third year Slytherins, stood loosely connected to Padma and Pavarti, but not really a part of their duo. And Harry didn't really know anyone else. No, wait, that was one of the fourth year Ravenclaw boys. Ed-something.

Harry mentally slapped himself. He'd met too many people; he was starting to forget them!

Professor Sinistra ordered everyone together before directing them to different parts of the stage. The main heroes of the story, Godric, Helga, Rowena, and Faolan stayed in the center. Harry was directed to the left right stage with the boy playing Salazar and the girl playing Princess Arianna. It was judgmental, but the three of them were portrayed as the villains of the play. When everyone was divided up, Professor Sinistra ordered everyone to circle back together, just stay in their respective groups. Harry ended up between Salazar's actor and Eric, who had Godric's role. The auditorium seemingly conjured chairs for everyone to sit in and Sarah Bathsheba passed out scripts. She was there as assistant director, apparently, and would be bouncing back and forth between the actors and the magic crew.

The first read through went spectacularly well. Pavarti and Padma had some problems with the pronunciation of a few of their chants, but they promised to work on it and no one really worried about it. Harry didn't have many lines, but the ones he did have were powerful and creepy. He even got to hiss. While it wasn't nearly as fun as Quidditch, Harry still had a blast.

Towards the end of the reading, the Hufflepuff playing Prince Matthew leapt from his seat in rage, screaming at the Princess Arianna. The girl stared at him, forgetting she had the next line. He was just _so_ in character.

"Relax, Ced," said the girl playing Helga. "Don't scare Sammie like that."

The kid blushed and sat back down.

Samantha Fawcett started with her line, stuttering, but managed to slip back into her screaming match with Cedric Diggory fairly quickly.

Big Sarah was nearly ecstatic at the end of practice with how well it had gone. And, while she kept it pretty hidden, Harry knew his guardian was very pleased as well. He left the auditorium with Able, as Queenie and Eliza had been invited by some of the other girls to join them in the library. A few steps away from the auditorium, the Ed-guy caught up with Harry and Able. "That was fun, right?"

"Yeah," Able said, nodding. "Anything you need, Eddie?"

That was it! Harry felt immensely grateful he wouldn't be asked to refer to the kid by name and not know what the name actually was. "Nope," Eddie said, "Well, yes, actually. Although, it's just an invitation." He straightened his shoulders. "We're forming teams for the annual Ravenclaw Intelligence Bowls." Both Able and Harry stared, perfectly capable of believing Ravenclaws turned their smarts into competitions, but not really wanted to acknowledge what that meant. "And, well, Paul decided that this would be a good year to allow invites to be extended to other houses. And then Adrianna argued was that if that was the case, there'd have to be a minimum and maximum set on the number of out of house students allowed to compete—"

"Eddie," Able said, "the point." The three of them had stopped walking by then.

"Right, sorry," Eddie grinned. Apparently, he got called out on babbling a lot. "I'd like to invite both of you to compete on the team that I'm entering in the third and fourth year division."

Harry's stomach dropped. _Another_ something to do? Still, it was interesting. Depending on what Able did—

Able narrowed his eyes, almost suspiciously. "What does that require from us?"

"Nothing. Just biweekly meetings in the library with me, Nora, and Persephone and participation during the actual competitions; they're scheduled around Quidditch and such-like, so don't worry. It's five people a team, and every team has to have at least one outsider and can have up to three. Actually, the Carmichael Team – we're changing the name, first order of business – will have more outsiders than Ravenclaws. So, please, please, please say you'll do it!"

"What competition are you up against?" Harry couldn't help it. He'd been playing Quidditch for too long.

Eddie grinned. "Well, the team that's favored is led by Su Li. Let me tell you, the way she called dibs on Hermione Granger was downright _scary._" Harry and Able laughed, nearly hysterically. "She used Granger as bait to get Lance on her team, and Elizabeth Higgs. I think her fifth member will end up being Morag. Mandy and Morag are fighting for that spot though; Su hasn't decided who to officially invite. Anyway, Su's team is heavily favored."

Harry blinked. "This is a big thing, isn't it?"

Eddie's grin turned almost feral. "For us? It's nearly as big a Quidditch. The seventh and sixth years share a division, but it's less than half the size of the third and fourth years. The fifth years don't get to compete unless they're invited up. The second and first years have their own division too. We're gonna need a whole weekend for that competition, there's _so_ many youngsters. So, you two in?"

"Sure," Harry said, not really knowing what he was saying. He really, really, really,_ desperately_ needed to learn how to say _NO!_

"I'll do it," Able said, grinning, "although, I'm only doing it to keep Harry sane."

At that moment, Anthony Goldstein ran up and stopped beside them, panting. "_Eddie_! I called Potter!"

"You heard the ruling!" Eddie shot back. "Paul said it was at the same time and first come first served. _And_ we were allowed to start asking others as soon as play practice ended."

A queasy feeling twisted into Harry's stomach. Anthony huffed. "_Fine_." Turning to Harry, he shrugged. "I won't blame you. Still friends, right mate?"

"Definitely."

Anthony ran off.

Able turned to Eddie, "Are you sure this isn't bigger than Quidditch?"

Eddie started to say something, but Harry just laughed. He laughed in one of his best friend's faces because he was so, so wrong. This was nowhere near as competitive as Quidditch.

…he hoped.

o.o.o.o.o.o

He knew that particular screaming didn't come from his dream. Besides, his clock said it was barely 2:30am. On Sunday morning. He rarely ever woke up this early, even with all the dreams. So why was someone screaming? Harry rolled out of the confines of the curtains and grabbed robes to throw on over his pajamas. Able and Neville were both poking their heads out of the curtains, but Cormac showed no alertness whatsoever. "I'll see what it is," Harry said, to his still mostly asleep roommates.

The screaming was almost certainly coming from the common room.

Harry pushed open the door and peered down through the dark hallway of the boys' dorm. William pushed passed him and took the steps down to the common room two at a time. Kenneth and some of the less heavy sleepers were gathered at the top of the stairs, as if debating whether or not to go down. Harry went down. No one really followed him. The middle of the common room was chaos. Pieces of dry parchment filled the air, creating some sort of artificial white-out. William was pressed against the common room wall.

"It's dangerous! It's dangerous!" The screams were loud, audible, and Harry knew precisely who it was. He pushed away from the wall, ignoring William's order not to proceed into the white out. He heard someone screaming for Professor McGonagall. Someone else was screaming at the screamer, trying to get her to stop. Harry knew that wouldn't work. He made it to the center of the common room.

Ginny Weasley slashed her wand at yet another diary. It exploded, showering more and more pieces of parchment and covering into the air. Zia Anya stood a few paces away, backing away, looking increasingly more horrified. Ruth Turpin stood over Ginny, screaming. That was all Harry could see. He plowed forward, pushed Ruth away, and snatched Ginny's wand before she had the chance to destroy another diary.

She lunged, snapping for her wand. "I hate you!" Ginny shrieked. "I hate you I hate you I hate you! GIVE ME BACK MY WAND!" One of the benefits of being a third year was that you were short and sixth years were tall. Ruth Turpin grabbed the wand from Harry's outstretched hand and made a break for it. Ginny lunged after her, but Harry leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her waist, holding her still. One of the benefits of being a third year was that most of the second year girls were smaller than you. Still, Ginny fought. She didn't have sixth brothers for nothing. Her arms flailed, elbows catching him in the jaw, nails digging into hands, heels pounding again and again against his legs. "LET ME GO! _I HATE YOU, HARRY POTTER!_"

"Calm down, Ginny," Harry said, his voice unmistakably calm. "You need to calm down."

"I HATE YOU!"

"You don't," Harry persisted. Inside, his stomach roiled in revulsion. She probably did hate him. She had every right to hate him. "You hate Voldemort. You hate Tom. Tell me, Ginny. Tell me you hate Tom." Her screams turned inaudible, her fighting increased uncontrollably. She shook. "It's okay, Ginny. I know it hurts. I know you want that year back. Please, Ginny, let us help you. It's not," he swallowed, "it's not a humiliation to ask for help. We care, Ginny. We care about your safety and your health and we want to help. Please let us help you heal."

Her screams quieted. She broke into shuddering, horrific sobs. "I hate Tom," she said, the words choked out of her like a burning fire. "I hate him. I hate him so much it scares me."

"I know," Harry whispered. She had stopped fighting now and just hung there, still held tight in his arms. "I know, I hate him too."

Ginny turned in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and just cried onto his shoulder, still shaking. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'msorrysorry—"

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Harry said, tightening his hug. She continued crying. The white storm of parchment started to settle. As the seeming artificial snow settled, Harry was faced with the rather angry eyes of over a dozen Gryffindors. Emma MacDonald stood by the portrait hole. She, William, and Patricia Stimpson were the only ones who looked like they had a clue as to what just happened. Everyone else, all girls, all ranging from years, looked mad. All of the second year girls were assembled, Clara and Clementine seemed bloodthirsty, Zia looked defeated, betrayed, and more than a little mad, Sarah bit her lip as if she didn't want to be mad, but couldn't help it. Ginny didn't notice any of this. She was too busy crying.

McGonagall arrived. She took in the sight of the littered common room and Harry holding a crying girl with only a raised eyebrow. "Miss MacDonald, could you please explain?"

Emma swallowed but stepped forward. "Some twenty minutes ago, I woke up to a theft alert going off. I wasn't particularly worried, but out in the hallway, Ruth and Temperance both had the same problem, and Patricia. No one else had the spells cast, but a lot of diaries and journals and the like were missing. That's when the screaming started. We made it down to the common room and there was Miss Weasley, screaming that the various diaries were dangerous and had to be destroyed. As you can see, she destroyed them." Emma's tone was flat. Dangerous. Deadly. Flat. "The second year girls came down next. We sent Temperance off to get you and Ruth tried to calm Ginny down, but it didn't work. A few minutes later, Harry came down and started talking about this guy named Tom and he got Ginny to calm down and… it stopped snowing." Her voice remained flat. Emotionless. Harry knew it was hiding more than a little emotion.

Ginny looked up from Harry's shoulder. She stared around at the other Gryffindor girls and seemed to shrivel inside herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice hitching. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Miss Weasley," McGonagall said, softly, "I think we might be best served if you spend the rest of the night in the hospital wing. Will you come with me?" Ginny nodded and moved towards their head of house. She looked utterly dejected. "Emma," McGonagall murmured, "I trust you can handle the vanishing of this parchment." Emma looked like there was nothing else she wouldn't rather do, but she nodded. McGonagall took Ginny through the door that connected the common room to the hospital wing. Harry sagged.

"_Evanseco_," Emma said. Most of the little papers disappeared.

"I can't believe she did that!" Clara cried, wringing her hands through the air. "That little bi—"

"Shut up," Patricia Stimpson growled. Everyone turned to the widely recognized quietest Gryffindor. Patricia rarely spoke, even when she had to. "Just _shut_ up and looked at it from Weasley's perspective. If I hear one hint of _any of you,_" her words here seemed more directed towards Ruth, Temperance, Lavender, Pavarti and the rest of the older girls, than the other second years, "treating Weasley poorly because of this, you won't know what hit you. Are we clear?"

The second years nodded. Sarah didn't, but her rather terrified expression was enough. The older girls nodded as well.

Emma stepped forward, "Everyone back to bed, okay? Just… keep quiet for the rest of the night, all right? If there are problems, they can be dealt with in the morning." The girls obeyed her and went upstairs. That left just Emma and William and – somewhat to Harry's confusion – Percy Weasley standing in the common room. Emma made it five feet before she sank into a chair.

"The rest of us need sleep as well," Percy said, somewhat pompously.

"So go to sleep," Emma said, glaring at Percy. "Just go."

Percy went. When Emma didn't order him up to bed, Harry tentatively sat down in an armchair across from her, while William joined her in the single chair. "Harry," Emma said, quietly, "am I going to regret asking _why is it always you?_"

"If you find the answer, I'd like to know," Harry grimaced. His words came out dry and sour. "As would Aurora and Professors McGonagall and Hooch and Lupin and Flitwick and Sprout and Madam Pomfrey. Hermione wouldn't mind knowing. I'm sure Snape would nearly kill to know." He shrugged. "Let me know when you find the secret."

Emma half-smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You're a good kid, Harry, no matter what people say about you."

"It's a little weird," he admitted, "using a supposedly 'dark talent' in a school play."

"I can imagine."

No, Emma, you really can't, Harry couldn't help but think. He hissed.

Emma made a face, but William stayed perfectly calm. Oh, the benefits of being muggleborn. "Okay, that's a bit weird. Don't you have to have a snake to speak Parseltongue?"

"Yes," Harry said, shortly. William turned away, hiding a grin that was spreading across his face. He had guessed that Harry was just making it up as he went along.

"…Where's the snake?"

"I didn't actually say anything." Harry said. "But no one really knows what Parseltongue is, so… I guess I can pretty much fake it and make it believable."

Emma stared.

"Harry," William said, distracting his girlfriend, "if you going to be lucid around my Quidditch-crazy roommate in the morning, you should head to bed."

Harry did as he was asked. Neither Neville nor Able were still awake when he got to the dorm room. Cormac didn't even stir. Harry collapsed on his bed, rolled into the comforts and pressed his head against a pillow. And for the first time… he couldn't fall asleep. All his problems rooted in the nightmares and waking up from sleep. He'd never not been able to fall asleep unless it was early morning – which this was – and after a nightmare – which this wasn't. So maybe this was just an early morning thing. Harry sighed and rolled over. It didn't help. He still couldn't sleep.

He did try. But about half an hour after returning to his dorm room, Harry slipped out from his curtains, scribbled a note to Neville on a piece of parchment, grabbed his invisibility cloak and headed out of the Gryffindor Tower. It had been a night like this last year that Aurora had caught him wandering, late last year. She hadn't gotten him in trouble. She'd only forced him to explain his nightmares to her and only her. She hadn't betrayed him. She trusted him about knowing where the Chamber of Secrets was. It hadn't been her fault Dumbledore refused to act. Subconsciously, he knew that his feet were taking him to the bottom of the Astronomy Tower, but he didn't really acknowledge that until he ended up standing outside of the hidden door to his guardian's private chambers. The portrait recognized him as soon as he pulled the cloak away from his head. "She isn't in, Mr. Potter."

Harry glanced up the stairs, but didn't feel like climbing to the observatory. "Let me in anyways?"

The portrait hissed, but swung open, apparently having been instructed to admit him. Harry dropped the cloak over the back of one of the chairs in the darkened room. A small fire burbled in the middle of a side wall. Harry liked Aurora's sitting room. It was small and there were only two chairs, but he liked it, none the less. He curled into one of the chairs, closed his eyes, and managed to block out the world in a horrible, restless state of consciousness that only semi-resembled sleep. Still, it wasn't sleep.

Harry phased in and out of consciousness, alternating between shivering with fear and holding himself perfectly still, not daring to move. He didn't know what he was so terrified… Vernon… Petunia… Dudley… the dementors… the light… Voldemort… Hermione dying… That last thought jerked Harry up out of his cycle. He didn't want Hermione to die. He didn't want anyone to die. But he couldn't help thinking about it. He kept conjuring pictures of his friends, all dead; Sarah, Paradise, Neville, Able and so many others. He couldn't handle it. Struggling to breath, Harry reached for his wand and cast five quick patroni. Caradoc, Flutterbunny, Kleio, Aegisa, and Orion circled around him, providing at least some comfort.

Harry sank back into the armchair, able to find some peace from the horrific thoughts, but not a lot. He slipped back into the semi-unaware state which really wasn't sleep.

When Aurora Sinistra arrived at the chamber door, she could instantly see the silver glowing light between the cracks of her door. Before she could inquire of the portrait, he mumbled "Mr. Potter entered about an hour ago. He has yet to leave."

That wasn't good. "Open," Sinistra ordered, impatient. As her door swung open, she dashed into her sitting room. All of Harry's now school-wide famous patroni circled one of her armchairs and the little boy huddled within one, shivering. He looked so small and broken and restless and hurting. "Harry?" Aurora whispered, pressing a hand to his forehead. His skin felt hot to the touch. "Harry, wake up." He darted away, fear widening his eyes until he found Aurora's face, recognized it, and relaxed just enough. "What's wrong?"

"Couldn't sleep," Harry mumbled, exhaustion blurring his words together. "And then everyone was dying. I kept seeing everyone dying. I don't want anyone to die." He searched for comfort and his guardian folded her into her arms, nearly crying at how Harry had to feel. The poor boy never could catch a break. She re-situated herself, claiming the chair her own and letting Harry curl around her and fall back asleep on her shoulder. The three patroni remained, their silver light intensifying the normal glow of the fire. Oh, her extraordinary kid… She cried for him.


	13. Plots, Pitfalls, and Power

_AN: As per all the birds: Harry flies. Harry loves to fly. It's like his favorite thing. Ever. He was born to inhabit the skies. (No. This will _not_ become an elemental fic.__ Fun stuff with will magic to follow.)_

Chapter Thirteen

Plots, Pitfalls and Power

Not many people saw Ginny that Sunday. Madame Pomfrey kept her confined to the hospital wing. Percy visited. The twins stopped by. A healer from St. Mungo's came upon a request. Once the Gryffindors spread the story around, no one really bothered to worry about Ginny.

Not many people saw Harry that Sunday. Paradise found him almost immediately after breakfast. She brought news that Neville had freaked out when he wasn't at breakfast and that had spiraled into Emma freaking out and that panicked most everyone else. McGonagall had gotten everything under control. Eventually. Paradise left not long after she verified that Harry was okay and had no problems beyond a slight fever.

Even when his fever faded, Harry fought to let Aurora allow him to invite Emi and friends (of her choice) to join him to study. Saturday dinner, he'd arranged to study with Artemis Ingraham, and he didn't want to not make that appointment. Pomfrey had said that he should stay in Aurora's chambers for the day. She'd volunteered to inform Oliver, so that the Quidditch captain wouldn't totally freak out. To Harry's delight, she'd also sent along the three young staff kids. And, as his meeting with Emi wasn't until later that afternoon, the kids could stay well into the afternoon.

Aurora had to leave to attend to some of her professor tasks, so that left Harry in the sitting room with Tyler, Ciara and Becks. The three of them had brought a bunch of various wizarding games that Harry had never heard of. The children spent several hours introducing Harry to the _vital_ aspects of wizardry that he had missed growing up as a muggle. Their indignation over his ignorance was kind of humorous, in all honesty. It was adorably innocent.

Becks was the quietest of the three, and while she seemed incredibly comfortable with the Pomfreys, it took her close to an hour to open up around Harry. The three of them played games and talked and ate a lunch of sandwiches that the house-elves had brought up. Both Madame Pomfrey and Aurora checked on them throughout the day. And both of them mentioned that Dumbledore seemed very eager to talk to Harry.

Near three, Tyler, Ciara and Becks left the small room, grumbling and complaining about the interactions they were allowed to have with students. The regular students were not supposed to know that the staff kids existed. Becks didn't mind the rule, but Ciara utterly despised it. A little after three, Emi arrived, bringing along four other Hufflepuff second years. Harry let them in and they sat on the floor, clustered around the fire.

"Pallas Ingraham," Artemis said, immediately, "my twin sister. Natalia—"

"Nat!"

"Nat Shacklebolt," Artemis rolled her eyes, "Gabriel Morgan-Shultz, and Charlotte Jackson. And yeah, we all know who you are."

"Of course I know," Gabriel complained, "I have to dorm with Harvette."

Nat snickered. "Well, it's worse for the first years."

"Changing the subject now," Harry said. They had brought books. Pallas had a textbook that he'd never seen before. It looked like it was on transfiguration. He wanted it. Pallas seemed to sense that and handed him the book. The Hufflepuffs were a good group. They chatted easily enough, but studied hard and asked each other for help. He should hang out with Hufflepuffs more often, Harry decided. If they were always this open and honest, he could learn a lot. Besides, he genuinely liked all the Hufflepuffs in his year. And… Sally-Anne. Harry kept his face blank, but inwardly, he wanted to smack himself with a huge hammer.

She hadn't returned. Harry made a mental note to write her a letter. Like, as soon as he finished studying-talking with the second years.

"Do you think you can do all the second year Hufflepuffs?" Charlotte asked, breaking up a rather heated conversation about alternative levitation between Artemis and Nat. "You've seemed to have slowed down in your Campaign, you know, outside of Gryffindor."

He wanted to bash his head against a textbook again.

"I'm close friends with Clara and Clementine. Clementine that it would be funny to have all the kids with c-names be friends and before I knew it, bam, I was sucked in. But yeah, they talk about you a lot."

"Yay me," Harry complained, a sarcastic lilt to his voice. He wondered why Charlotte didn't mention Colin. Because Colin Creevey was definitely a c-name. "Let's see, there's you five here. Um, Harry Vanette. Greg, I think." He vaguely remembered meeting a bunch of Hufflepuff second years when he'd sat down with Harry. That was when he'd met Nat. "Um, Xavier?" At Charlotte's nod, Harry wracked his brain for who could be left. He honestly couldn't remember.

"One more," Charlotte prompted. When Harry didn't get it, she shrugged. "Close enough. You missed Brianna Whitby."

"Right." Harry filed that away. He was no longer forgetting about Ernie Macmillian or Theodore Nott; he'd just have to add Brianna to the list of people to keep repeating to himself. He enjoyed himself around the five Hufflepuffs; they were a good distraction, but not much more than that. The Ingrahams were cool, even if Pallas didn't say much and seemed to follow her sister on nearly everything. Near five, the Hufflepuffs left. Artemis left him a piece of parchment and a quill to use, asking for the quill back but telling him to use the parchment. He didn't tell her what it was for.

He knew his guardian would be returning to the room around six, so he spent the next hour crafting a letter to Sally-Anne Perks. He asked questions: how was she doing, how was her mother doing, was there anything he could do to help, and suchlike. Mostly, however, Harry rambled about the senseless things that he knew Sally-Anne might want to hear about. He told her Professor Sprout's reaction to their Herbology project, which was coming really well. He went into detail about the growth within the flowers that they'd chosen to grow. Due to their combination of the three natural growers and Harry, Sprout had asked them to add a certain level of complexity to their project. They had had to cross pollinate lily strands to try and come up with a safe way of creating rainbow colored, magical lilies. They had a specific goal in mind. Other groups just had to cross pollinate flowers.

He talked senselessly about the play and how Fred and George Weasley had had a screaming match with Filch outside the Great Hall one morning. That had earned them a few weeks detention, but neither of the twins actually minded. He hoped she'd find it funny. Harry rolled the parchment, but didn't seal it, as he wanted to see if Neville or anyone else wanted to add anything. At that time, he still had a good fifteen minutes to burn before his teacher got back and as he was forbidden to read and she'd threatened punishment if he touched a textbook or _The Two Towers_ outside of the study meeting with the 'puffs… Harry moved to her bookcase and pulled out a book that at least semi-normal. There seemed to be an abnormal about romance novels on the shelves and he wasn't going to touch those. The book was _The Princess and the Goblins_ by George MacDonald. That was one of the authors that Patricia had mentioned!

Harry plopped down in his chair and buried himself in the MacDonald book. It was obviously a very fairytalish story and Harry enjoyed it. A lot. He thought a lot of different things about little Princess Irene; pity, sympathy, and a lot of things he didn't really put words to. "Merlin, Harry, you're such a Ravenclaw!" He started from his book. Paradise was already perched on the arm his chair, smirking at his apparent shock. Neville, Hermione, Sarah and Able stood behind Paradise, all holding themselves a little awkwardly, as if they didn't know how to act around a teacher who wasn't there so much as a teacher. And Sinistra was there, conjuring more chairs and a little table for the seven of them to eat off of.

Dinner conversation branched into a few various discussions. Able and Aurora explained to Paradise why Astronomy was a necessary class. Harry paid half an ear to that conversation and was a bit surprised when Aurora mentioned Astronomy was a class that focused a lot on essay writing and how to write a good essay. They also read books and stories that went along with the stars. Their teacher reckoned it to a themed English course that often crossed over with various scientific courses in normal muggle school.

Hermione and Sarah were talking about the upcoming talent show. Harry mentioned to Neville his letter about Sally-Anne and the two of them speculated about what was wrong. Harry asked Sarah if she had any pictures of the greenhouses – a yes – and asked if he could send a copy to Sally-Anne. The affirmative response was more timid, but she did say yes. By the time dinner was over, Neville had written his own letter on parchment borrowed from Hermione and Sarah and promised to fetch her pictures and then mail the three parts of the letter with Hedwig.

Harry loved dinner. He honestly loved his friends and his new sister. Sure, Paradise was his friend, but she didn't really fit in with Hermione, Neville, Able and Sarah. He'd been surprised how quickly Hermione and Sarah bonded. The two slightly ostracized, bookish girls had – apparently – just not taken the time to get to know each other earlier. Now, within Gryffindor, they were nearly inseparable. Sarah wasn't nearly as intelligent as Hermione; she struggled in several subjects, but she still wasn't as outspoken and full of life as the average Gryffindor. No one in Harry's group truly was. Neville and Able had accepted him into their duo seamlessly, or so it seemed, and they genuinely liked having the girls around. Sure, a sometimes, Harry missed his trio with Ron and Hermione, but the penta… the penta was awesome.

As for Paradise, she was just the younger sister, like Emma might see Mary or the twins see Ginny or Able see… wait. Able and Romilda were siblings? Oh. Hrm. They shared the same last name. Okay, so he and Paradise didn't exactly have a normal sibling relationship. Still. At the end of dinner, the five Gryffindors said goodbye, but only with promises that Harry would be back in classes the next morning. That let Harry and Aurora. She vanished the table and most of the chairs and the two of them moved to the armchairs. Harry picked up the MacDonald book and dove back into the story of Princess Irene.

"Dumbledore's coming," Aurora said, after a few moments. "He's been demanding to speak to you lately."

Harry put his book down. "Oh." He didn't want to talk to Dumbledore. He didn't! "He's coming… here?"

Aurora nodded. "He can't and won't force me to leave, all right? You don't have to face him without support."

"Thanks," Harry whispered, his voice choked. If he had the courage to admit it, he would have said aloud that Dumbledore scared him. Dumbledore's power and influence scared him. What Dumbledore had done to his life scared him. He had, at some point, idolized the old headmaster. How long ago had that faded away? Harry turned back to his, but couldn't fully distract himself from thinking about Dumbledore.

Aurora read her own book, but Harry could tell she was just staring at one page for the entire time. At least he bothered to turn the pages. At some point during the wait, he received a tentative probe from Hedwig. This was new, as they'd only just started communicating mentally on a very basic mental level. Harry focused in on the feeling; she was asking permission to fly a letter for someone else. Immediately, Harry sent his consent. He'd asked Sarah to use Hedwig, so that was probably his and Neville's letter.

He'd barely finished wishing Hedwig luck when the portrait door swung open and Headmaster Dumbledore stepped into the sitting room. Instantly, Aurora's mouth thinned. Her employer hadn't bothered to knock. The ancient man stepped into the little room, took stock of the two chair situation and conjured his own, massive armchair. He set down right in front of the fire, blocking Harry and Sinistra from seeing the fire. "Harry," Dumbledore said, "how are you feeling?"

"Fine."

Dumbledore raised a congenial eyebrow. "Then why do you remain here?"

Harry closed his book and rested it on the arm of his chair. "Madame Pomfrey suggested I stay away from the majority of the students after a fever like I had. But she also said I didn't have to stay confined to the infirmary." That was true enough.

"Harry, I'd like to talk about your nightma—"

He probably shouldn't. He should just play the agreeable student and let the headmaster ramble at him. "Get rid of the dementors, sir."

A twinkle filled Dumbledore's eye. "Excuse me?"

"Get rid of the dementors, Headmaster, and I'll tell you about my nightmares." He glanced at Aurora for confirmation. There was an almost imperceptible glint of a smirk on her face.

Dumbledore notice her smirk as well. He appeared to think for a time, before calmly saying, "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. The dementors remain at Hogwarts for everybody's safety. I would hope you'd trust me to talk about these nighttime visions."

Harry managed not to shout out a loud, very untrusting response. Trust was everything. Trust was what had convinced Madame Ayna to let Aurora take the role of his guardian. And he did not trust Headmaster Dumbledore. "I'm sorry, sir, but I do not feel like I can trust you with that."

The headmaster templed his fingers together. He peered at the student while covertly studying the teacher. "Then how about your patroni. Will you please show me your now fabled ability?"

Harry frowned. He looked at Aurora for guidance. She looked confused for a few seconds, before shrugging. "I don't know, headmaster. Madame Pomfrey said I should be careful using magic."

"I'm sure it couldn't hurt."

Harry shrugged. He grabbed his wand and focused on a powerful memory, but one he hadn't tried yet. "_Expecto patronum,_" Harry said. Nothing spurted out the end of his wand. Dumbledore seemed to relax, by just a hair, as if he'd been hoping that the much talked about power of the third year had been just a rumor. Harry focused on the memory again. It wasn't happy, but it was ever so strong and it made his wand sing when he thought about it. "_Expecto patronum._" Out from the wand spurted a large bird, a bird so large and magnificent, it would have overshadowed Kleio. Accents of red graced the silver bird's feathers. Harry stared. He hadn't been expecting thinking about when he first touched his holly and phoenix feather wand to have produced a… a phoenix.

The phoenix opened his beak and uttered a silent caw. The patronus could make no sound, but Harry swore that it didn't need words to communicate. Dumbledore just stared. Aurora just stared. The phoenix swooped around the miniscule room and alit on the back of Harry's chair. Three patronus tears splashed out of the bird's eyes and fell amongst Harry's poorly tamed hair. The boy instantly felt safer and more secure, even with Dumbledore in the room. "That is," Dumbledore murmured, after taking a few moments to compose himself, "spectacular, Harry."

It was with that that Dumbledore stood. He'd made his decision. There would be no manipulation that could turn Harry back around. He had already progressed too far out of control and this needed to be stopped. Grateful that neither Harry nor Aurora could see his thoughts, the old man issued a hurried goodbye before heading for the heart of Hogwarts. This could not be allowed to continue. Harry's unguided growth needed to be stopped. None of the portraits or gargoyles or statues or ghosts paid much attention to Dumbledore's very purposeful, powerful strides through the older portions of the castle. He was down in the bowls of the ancient castle frequently enough that it wasn't an oddity, even if no one knew why he bothered to spend so much time in a particular corridor of the castle.

Hogwarts belonged to the Headmaster. Every headmaster and headmistress to run the school had a connection to the non-sentient castle. Non-sentient and non-magical are not the same thing, for Hogwarts was very magical. Dumbledore slipped into the secret heart of Hogwarts. The power available to funnel from this room was massive. The room itself was simple, stone gray walls, stone gray floor, stone gray ceiling. In the middle of the room, on a pedestal, stood a small, glowing orb of magic. He'd never tapped into the power to accomplish this particular purpose, but the power was full, alive, and _oh _so good! He'd certainly used it for other things. The headmaster laid his non-wand hand on a glowing orange orb, one that pulsated with different colors of magic.

With his wand in hand – the powerful, unbeatable Elder Wand – Dumbledore whispered the spell. Shouting a spell does nothing when there is this much power coursing through you. "_Obliviate!_"

Like a wonderful drug, the power and magic coursed through the old man's veins. The spell reached to every student and every staff-member.

The spell ended. Dumbledore pulled his hand away from the orb, slowly, reluctant to draw away from so much power.

The occupants of Hogwarts simply… forgot.


	14. What Slips Through the Cracks

Chapter 14

What Slips Through the Cracks

Failure is a curious thing. Failure can encourage and motivate. Failure can cause growth and learning within someone. Failure can be destructive and dangerous. Failure can warp most everything good and make it evil. Failure is not a fun thing to deal with.

Dumbledore's spell failed.

But only by his definition.

Realities crossed.

Lines blurred.

And mere students were faced with a difficult question: define reality.

o.o.o.o.o.o

(Harry Potter and the Prison of Azkaban, by JK Rowling, exert from chapter "The Flight of the Fat Lady")

Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training, cold and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone, to find the room buzzing excitedly.

"What happened?" he asked Ron and Hermione, who were sitting in two of the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.

"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."

"Excellent," said Fred, who had followed Harry through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."

Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron, his high spirits ebbing away. Hermione seemed to read his mind.

"Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time," she said. "They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already."

"Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," said Ron. "Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry. The next one might not be for ages—"

"_Ron!_" said Hermione. "Harry's supposed to stay _in school—_"

"He can't be the only third year left behind," said Ron. "Ask McGonagall, go on, Harry—"

Everything about those few moments was normal. Ordinary.

And very, very wrong.

Fortunately, people noticed.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Tyler Pomfrey woke late on a Tuesday morning, haven fallen asleep with a fever the night before. His sister, Ciara, perched on the end of the bed, a quill stuck between her teeth as she studied something. Normally Mum didn't let Ciara anywhere near him when he was sick. "Hey, sis."

"'Sup," Ciara grumbled, distractedly. "Mum had an influx of patients during the night. She wants me to make sure you stay in bed this morning."

"Did the flu start going around?" Tyler asked, sitting up. Ciara had utterly no interest in their mother's profession, but Tyler wanted to be a healer with everything in him. He wanted to help people.

Ciara shook her head. "Nah. Mum said it was a bunch of random, unconnected things. It was weird though; people becoming suddenly clumsy. Horrible dreams for a few students. Harriett's under observation because of—" Ciara tapped the top of the quill against her forehead as she struggled to remember the specific symptoms of Harriett's illness "—erm, something about severe distortion of her perceived reality. She ranted on, sounding almost like that odd Ravenclaw girl."

"Oh," Tyler shrugged his shoulder. He still didn't feel so great. "Anything else?"

"Nah. Well, Katie Bell – you know, that friend of Queenie;s – she talking about things that didn't exist; that's what Mum said."

"Like what?" Tyler asked. He knew his sister probably didn't know. She was a medics daughter, so she knew a lot, but she just didn't care.

"I don't know, something about a school pla—" Ciara stopped talking. Her mouth hung open as she and Tyler stared at each other, not fully comprehending what was going on. "A school play." Ciara repeated. "And…"

At that moment, Rebecca Hooch burst into Tyler's room, tears streaking down her face. She hurled herself onto the bed, among her closest friends, and started shivering. "Something's wrong!" Becks cried, through her tears. "Something's very wrong!"

Ciara looked like she wanted to go punch whatever made her friend hurt. Her brother had much more of an even head. "What happened, Becks?"

She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. "I was in the library… you know, just looking for a book to read and I saw Harry so I said hi – I know I'm not supposed to, but I still did – and he looked like he didn't know me and that redhead boy that got in all that trouble for hurting his sister—" She trailed off, sniffling.

"Becks?"

"Well, that redhead told me to go away like a good little first year and stop bothering them. Then he shoved me. What happened to the staff kid pact? Why did Harry act like he didn't know me?"

Tyler swallowed. Something very, very wrong had happened. Someone forgetting about the school play… Harry forgetting about Becks… That wasn't right! "We'll find out, Becks." He needed to talk to Mum. He needed to talk to Mum and _soon._

o.o.o.o.o.o

Megan bounced down the Hufflepuff stairs late Sunday morning. She figured Sally-Anne must be ill or something, but then, even some of her stuff was missing. Hannah and Susan were playing chess by the fire. Megan headed over. "Hey. Either of you see Sally-Anne this morning?"

Hannah shook her head. "Do you think she might have gone to the hospital wing? A lot of people have been sick lately."

"I'll go check," Megan said, walking cheerfully out of the Hufflepuff basement towards the distant hospital wing. She was in a good mood, but that vaporized when she reached the hospital wing. Sally-Anne wasn't there. That's when the panic set in. Megan raced to the library, but Madame Prince hadn't seen her friend. That sent Megan running to Professor Sprout. The Hufflepuff Head of House was worried; she definitely remembered seeing Sally-Anne in classes on Friday and around the school that Saturday. And Megan said she hadn't been seen all morning.

By the time Sprout had finished gathering information on the whereabouts of her all students, Professor Flitwick had been alerted to the absence of all of Luna Lovegood's possession. Everyone remembered seeing her around in the past few days as well. The professors came to a grave conclusion. Two students were missing.

o.o.o.o.o.o

She'd only just arrived back to Hogwarts, yet Hedwig was distraught. Her connection to her human had fluctuated for a few seconds, causing him great pain and passing that pain onto her. She tried reaching for him and could touch him but received no response. What had happened to her human? Her Harry? Sunlight peeked into the owlery only through the most upright of slats; it was midday and most of the owls curled in on themselves, sleeping. Hedwig remained in the center perch, clicking her beak whenever the change in her familiar bond twinged. A few of the owls opened an eye to glare at the rhythmic sound, but no one dared challenge her. Only a few of the larger owls held a higher position in the owlery hierarchy than the small snowy. The few who'd dared challenge her had been quickly put back in their place.

Still – Hedwig clicked her beak, nervously – she wanted the connection with Harry back. The heat came first, filling the enclosed owlery with the room, disturbing the more climate sensitive owls. Hedwig fluffed her feathers. The fire came next, just a quick, startling burst of flame as Dumbledore's phoenix exploded into the open air of the owlery. At this, every single sleeping owl jolted to attention, staring down at the magnificent bird of flame. Fawkes ruled the Hogwarts air; no owl dared disputed that. Fawkes, were he so inclined, could decide who lived and died when it came to Hogwarts airways. But he was not so inclined, because he was a phoenix and incapable of such an act.

Hedwig spread her wings and lowered her head: humility, respect. She was the only owl in the middle. That made her stand out.

_Daughter of Dark,_ Fawkes said, speaking to the minds of all the owls. He spoke to all, but each and every owl knew he spoke directly to the snowy. _You need to come with me. We must right a horrible wrong._

_Father of Fire_, she murmured, desperately trying to keep her thoughts respectful and not too nervous, _what can I do to help?_

_Come_, Fawkes said. He swooped, burst through the hatch doors that normally a human needed to open, and waited for Hedwig to fly out. The other owls hooted and cawed, from jealousy or encouragement, Hedwig did not know. But she did know this – if she returned to the owlery after helping the phoenix, not even the bigger, more imposing owls could challenge her leadership. The snowy flapped her wings and burst out into the sunlight. It wasn't bad. She could fly in the sunlight. Fawkes swooped down and caught her in his talons. Hedwig couldn't help it; she mentally shrieked and physically hooted as fear coursed through her feathers. What was he doing?

And then the heat became unbearable.

Owls had trouble seeing, even on the dimmest of days. The heat surged through her very veins and all she could see was swimming, whirling red, orange, yellow. It _hurt_. Hedwig felt herself screaming as she tried to withstand the heat and the colors and the…

It stopped. Still, Hedwig couldn't catch herself when Fawkes let go. She tumbled through a few feet of air and smacked into a cold stone room. Cold. So cold. It hurt. She blinked twice. The room was thankfully dark. At last, her sense of balance maintained and Hedwig felt confident enough to rise into the air within the small little room. It was small. It was dark, with the only object of some interest in the room a small, dull orb which rested on an ornate pedestal. Fawkes hovered over the orb, his face full of grief and anger and other emotions that Hedwig couldn't name. The whole air reeked of magic and power. _What happened here, oh Father of Fire?_

_The magic of Hogwarts was used for ill. Has been used for ill. I fear it will be a great manner years before the castle shall be fully replenished of its life._

She didn't understand. _What does that mean?_

_It means, _Fawkes whispered, grief-filled, _that the school has truly reached its lowest point. We must heal the people before we can begin to __try and heal the school._

Hedwig flapped languidly, just enough keep her hovering. She wanted a perch. _How?_

_By fixing it,_ was all Fawkes would say. _But I don't know how._ _I've tried— _here, the phoenix bent his head over the dull, used up magic orb and let three tears drip from his grief-stricken eyes onto the orb. The orb shuddered and weakly glowed for a second before fading out. Hedwig felt magic incase her, uplift her, but it faded as quickly a clawprint in sand. _It doesn't work._ Before Hedwig could ask, Fawkes answered her next question. _I brought you here because you are bonded with he-who-can-restore-Hogwarts._ _It will not be easy, but one day, your human will bring this school into a glory that it has never previously held._

_What am I to do? _Hedwig hooted, awed.

_Fly, little sister. Fly with him. Help him. _

_What does that mean?_

_You will know,_ cooed Fawkes, _it won't be for a while yet. I can sense that. But when the time comes, bring him here and he will know. Hogwarts may be restored. _He launched forward, wrapped his claws around Hedwig, and flamed her away. The heat and swirling colors assaulted Hedwig. She screeched. And then it stopped. Hedwig fell into the middle of the owlery and managed to wrap her claws around the upmost of perches, barely regaining her balance in front of her brethren. Fawkes was nowhere to be seen.

_Hedwig,_ one of her braver companions, an older screech named Lars hooted, _where did the Father of Fire take you?_

She didn't know how to respond. _Hogwarts._

And from that cryptic answer on, Hedwig was the undisputed queen of the Hogwarts owlery.

o.o.o.o.o.o

"Mum!" Ciara shouted, as soon as her mother entered the closed off office. "Something's _wrong!_"

"I know, Ciara," Madame Pomfrey said, sagging against her desk. "How's your brother doing?"

"Fine, Becks is with him." Ciara narrowed her eyes. "Tyler said that you should be checking people for, for," her eyes rolled back, as if searching her memory, "for effects of badly cast memory charms? Something like that. Are there really memory charms? I thought that was only in story books."

Pomfrey stared at the wall, half-listening to her daughter. It was possible, in all actuality. The majority of these symptoms could be explained by a half-botched memory charm. She didn't know if there was a scan to see if someone had had parts of their memory erased, but she did know that obliviated memories could be restored. Somehow. She was not a mind healer. The matron of Hogwarts moved to her fireplace and floo-called St. Mungos. The receptionist, one Desiree Hampton, greeted the nurse with a high degree of familiarity. "What do you need this time, Poppy?"

"Can you send over a mind healer?"

"Again?"

Poppy blinked. She didn't remember requesting a mind healer recently. Maybe this was worse than what she'd seen. "Yes. I am wary of some sort of mass, blotched obliviation spell."

Desiree blinked. "Poppy, that's likely illegal!"

"Yes. I _know._ But I need a mind healer for verification."

Ciara hid a smirk at her Mom's irateness.

"Yes, yes," Desiree said, already moving away from the fire. "I'll got get Healer Mena right now." She ran off. Poppy headed back into her overly fully hospital wing, leaving Ciara perched on the desk, sucking on the beginnings of a sugar quill. The girl resisted a smirk; she loved it when her mum had patients. When she had other people to fuss over, she wasn't so hard on her. The little girl hopped of the desk and headed through the office and the door that led them back to their private chambers. Becks and Tyler were waiting for her.

"Accomplished," Ciara said, handing a sugar quill to both her friends. "Mum's so busy she didn't even notice when I grabbed these from her stash." Before Tyler could roll her eyes, she continued, "And _yes_ Tyler, it was surprisingly easy to get her to floo Mungos what with the memory charm comments. Those things are _real_?" She repeated, in astonishment.

"They're probably illegal," Becks said, sliding the casing off her quill and popping the end of it in her mouth. Neither she nor Tyler were overly concerned with Ciara's thievery; she'd done it before. "Or you have to have a permit to cast them, or some other regulation. What if they're dark?"

Ciara huffed. "That's too logical."

"And that's bad?" Tyler said, putting his quill on the table and resolving to lick it later. He didn't want to get sick again.

"That's _annoying_," she complained, poking her brother. "Anyway. A mind healer is coming, so people should be able to remember the right reality soon enough."

"But what if we made a mistake?" Becks muttered. "What if it's not the memory charm? What if _we're_ the ill ones."

"But neither of you were sick," Tyler objected. "And a lot of students were sick. Oh, and Aunt Rolanda came running in here while you were out – Ciara – said she needed to go look for two missing students. Which was… odd."

"Who?" Ciara asked.

"Luna Lovegood and Sally-Anne Perks. I don't know Perks, but Lovegood was that crazy Ravenclaw. I know it." Tyler said, annoyed. "Why doesn't everyone remember she's at Mungo's?"

"Yeah," Becks said. "But I haven't gotten the chance to ask Leann or Orion who Perks is."

"They might not know," Ciara pointed out. She pulled the sugar quill out of her mouth with a loud _pop._

"Harry'd know," Becks whispered, grumpily.

"Rebecca," Tyler admonished, "really. If people were obliviated, he was probably obliviated too. He honestly doesn't know who you are!"

The little girl stubbornly refused to accept that.

"It's going to be carnage, you know," Ciara made a popping sound with her sugar quill again. "We should go down to our Great Hall room and watch it from there." Neither Tyler nor Becks agreed with her. Huffing, Ciara headed down to the room herself. She was only half-right.

Carnage didn't begin to cover it.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Healer Mena arrived in short order. The old, stately woman looked annoyed at being pulled away from her hospital, but when she accompanied Poppy into the hospital wing, all irritation vanished. Harriett Patterson lounged in the closest bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Alyssa Mena cast a quick diagnostic spell, silently, over Harriett. The girl glowed a faint blue. Mena frowned, and before Harriett could make some witty retort, Mena had moved to the next victim. He showed the same blue signature. Without speaking a word, Mena cast the same spell on Madame Pomphrey, who glowed as well.

Mena's eyes narrowed. Her grip on her wand tightened. "If you will excuse me, Madame. I need to go call the aurors." Mena disappeared into Poppy's office, leaving the nurse staring at her various charges, halfway between relief and shock. What had obliviated most of the school? What could be the purpose of that obliviation? In less than a minute, Mena exited the office, followed by three high-ranking aurors.

The hospital wing floo was the only floo allowed to accept any authorized traveler. Sometime last year, Poppy had insisted that such methods were necessary, so St. Mungos would only be a floo call away. Dumbledore had not been happy. She stood to the side as Mena guided the aurors to Harriett's bedside and spoke in hushed tones about the memory charm. The aurors nodded and asked something that Poppy couldn't here. Mena answered with a negative. "Poppy," said the healer, "I want this entire school assembled in the Great Hall in half an hour. The rest of St. Mungo's mind healers should be here by then. If this problem extends beyond the exorbitant amount of people year, I'll need the help." Mena paused. "And I mean the _entire_ school, including those kids of yours and whoever else might have been in the castle last night."

Poppy tried to like Mena. She really did. Sometimes it was just so hard. The elderly healer disappeared back into the office. The matron looked around at the more injured of her sick patients. "All right, everyone, get each other to the Great Hall. These aurors will accompany you." The procession started immediately; most people had been paying attention to the cryptic, frightening words of Mind Healer Alyssa Mena. Poppy exited her wing and briskly walked towards the Headmaster's Office. She was not looking forward to ordering him to gather the student in the Great Hall.

Dumbledore was, by no definition, an easy man to work with. She had to argue with him for a good ten minutes before he let her key into the rarely used speaker system. "All students, report to the Great Hall immediately. All students, report to the Great Hall immediately. All staff, escort and stay with students in the Great Hall." That should be enough to get everyone into the Great Hall. And her kids knew that if everyone was called to the Hall, they were instructed to report to their own little room behind the staff table. "This means you, Dumbledore," Poppy mumbled, acerbically. She strode from his office towards the Great Hall, tension building every second. Some students fell in line behind her; mostly Ravenclaws. They were obeying her orders. Good.

In the Great Hall, it was orderly chaos. The students were loud and boisterous, but they stayed at their individual tables and let the four Heads of House walk up and down, checking to make sure everyone was there. Poppy slipped into the back room; Tyler, Ciara and Becks were sitting there, staring up at her. She nodded to both of them, pulled out of the room and watched the students calm down, at least by a little. Dumbledore had claimed his seat at the head table, looking completely in control of the situation. Had he, the Great Albus Dumbledore, been obliviated as well? Only Sally-Anne Perks and Luna Lovegood turned up missing. The notable presence of the three aurors was definitely formidable, although when Ruth Turpin bounced up and started chatting to one of the younger ones like they were best friends, the anxiety directed towards the law-keepers lessened.

Precisely on the thirty minute mark, Alyssa Mena blasted open the Great Hall doors and stomped through the tables, followed by eight St. Mungo's professionals and four or five mind healers in training. At this, Dumbledore raised a finely controlled eyebrow. He really had no idea what was going on. "Professors, Students," Mena said, her voice _sonorused_ and so easy to hear. "We believe that a good majority of you have been charmed to forget some unknown amount of time and experiences. For many, this information has been replaced with fake memories. The staff of St. Mungos is here today to undo that." There was a pause in her speech, but silence reigned in the Great Hall. "I can't guarantee that this will be easy.

"Memory is an exceptionally powerful thing. It is also exceptionally fragile. The process to regaining memories is lengthy, and you may have some adverse physical and emotional responses to our procedure. We ask that you try to remain as composed as possible when whatever has been obliviated has come to light. Rest assured that whoever is responsible for conducting this memory charm did so illegally and shall be punished to the fullest extent of the law. Healers Harper, Johnson, you start on the staff. Is there a volunteer from the students who doesn't mind going first?"

Harry put his hand up. He was in a bad mood and this, well, who cared. It wasn't like it actually mattered. Harry's hand was the only one in the air.

"Good, come up here, sir."

He stepped up towards the mind healers and Alyssa Mena pointed him towards a youngish looking man. The man pulled him off to the side of the Great Hall and instructed him to sit on a conjured rug. "I'm Healer Kensington. You can call me Vince if that makes you feel more comfortable." Vince sat down on the rug across from Harry and peered into the boy's face. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" At Harry's glum nod, Vince shrugged. "Okay, what I'm going to do is go into your mind. It won't hurt. I'll have to sniff around a bit, but I assure you, everything I see in your mind is completely confidential. Once I find the memories that have been locked away, I'll free them. Understand?"

"Yes," Harry said, uninterested.

Vince dove into Harry's mind. He was right, it didn't hurt, but it did sort of tickle a bit. Various random memories popped into Harry's mind. The dementors and Sirius Black were at the forefront. With the dementors came all the horrid moments at the Dursleys, his mom's screams, killing Quirrel, nearly loosing Ginny… he could feel Vince's mental shudder at those memories. _I'll help you,_ Vince spoke, to his mind, _if you aren't getting help already, I'll make sure you never have to go back to the Dursleys again._ Emotion quivered between their minds. Harry didn't remember someone making him that offer before. In a few, short moments that seemed like a lifetime, Vince found the pocket of memories that had been bound away.

Mentally, he poked at the vile feeling magic until he found a lose area and dove in, breaking apart the bond on Harry's memory.

Harry's screams were the first. He was soon joined by the few other students and a staff member who'd reached this stage in the process. Students cowered.

In just a few seconds though, Harry had acclimated to this influx of new memories and was able to watch the past month and a little more scroll through his head. Wait. He was a Lord? Ron was...? Hermione. Ginny. Dumbledore? What… the boy clutched his temples. Sociality. Campaign of Sociality. Sarah. Neville. Able. Paradise. Help from Aurora. How could he have forgotten this? The play. The patroni! Here, he felt Vince's further surprise. Runes! Languages! Fairytales! How could he have forgotten this? Harry managed to focus in on the world around him.

Vince had pulled from his mind and sat there, in front of him, a worried expression on his face. Harry stared at the Healer, shocked. "Why… why would I forget that?"

"Magic, Mr. Potter, is not always used for good." The young man conjured a small piece of parchment with writing on it. "If you ever need help, or want training in any of the Mind Arts, please don't hesitate to contact me. Or if you need a good psychotherapist…" Vince chuckled. "Send one of your friends over to me, when you sit down, all right?"

Harry got to his feet, tottering a little as he tried to balance. A few other people were finished. A Gryffindor seventh year – Emma, Harry knew her now. He made eye contact with Emma and she was shaking. Just _shaking_ like a leaf in the wind. She could barely move. Mechanically, Harry made it back to the Gryffindor table and sat down between Neville and Hermione. "Neville—" He manage to gasp out. "Go see that Mind Healer over in the corner." A scared looking Neville did as he was told.

Hermione and Ron, who was sitting across from them, stared at him, obviously curious. Ron… Ron… Ron… ex-friend. Mean. Bully. Ron. "What was it like?" Hermione asked, skeptical of Harry's shell-shocked appearance.

"Horrid," Harry said. "We forgot over a month and I—" He started to curse, very rapidly in mixture of Latin, Egyptian, and Greek. People stared at him. Down the table a ways, Patricia Stimpson raised an eyebrow at him. Emma made her stuttering way down the table, stopping every few steps to regain her balance. She stopped by Harry.

"Harry…" Emma whispered, her voice weak. "Which is reality? I know, I know they said that the one that was locked away was… was… but I can't shake either of them. I remember _both_ of them. What's reality?"

Harry quivered. She was a seventh year. He was a third year. He didn't know how to respond. "Reality is what we take from it," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. He failed. "Reality is the world we create from this moment on."

Emma nodded, derisively, and walked further down the table, more secure in her step now.

"Okay, Harry," Hermione muttered, viciously. "What in Merlin's name is going on?"

Harry opened his mouth to explain. He really did. "Um—"

Over by Vince, Neville screamed and started to convulse.

Across from him, Ron looked quizzical. _Ron…_

Harry ducked beneath the table and retched.


	15. This Ain't No Reality

_A/N: So here's my version of "character-must-adjust-to-a-completely-different-world" storyline. Fabricated, supersized, and short to be sure. If you have any questions, keep in mind that the two _realities _are the one that I've been relating in this story, and Dumbledore's mental creation (ie, the beginning of the third HP book). So you should know the two realities fairly well. Well, for the next few chapters, at least.  
><em>

Chapter 15

This Ain't No Reality

Neville was green when he made it back to the table, very green. Around the same time, Su Li was heading back for the Ravenclaw table. Both of them stopped by Harry. Neville directed Ron towards Vince, and Su nearly ordered Hermione to go see the female Mind Healer she'd just come from. That left Neville and Harry sitting semi-alone. They stared at each other, both struggling to digest the two sets of memories that they possessed.

"Hey, mate," Harry said, his voice low. "You and Able… you're my best mates, right?"

The other Gryffindor nodded. "In that… in those alternate memories, you and Ron—"

Harry made a face. "He's not my friend."

"I wouldn't mind though," Neville said, softly. "If you still wanted to be his friend and not—"

"Neville!" Harry said, "You are my best mate. Now. Future. No matter what the fake memories say."

He nodded, but he still looked a little disbelieving. Harry looked up at the staff table. McGonagall and Lupin had obviously received their memories back, and Madame Pomfrey was currently sitting with one of the Mind Healers. It didn't look like Aurora had been seen yet. Harry wanted to cry. He ducked underneath the table again and pulled out his wand. A lot of people would need comfort and support to get through this. It felt awful. It was confusion and scary and Harry didn't know what to do! With a quick flick of his wand, Harry focused on how it felt to fly and summoned Orion. The silver colt bent his head to fit under the table. "Go comfort people," Harry said, and the colt galloped off.

It took Harry a few tries to summon the patroni whose memory stemmed from the freshly returned memories. Still, he managed to summon his patroni – up through Kleio – and sent Flutterbunny and Caradoc off to comfort whoever needed it. Aegisa was told to wait for Paradise and Kleio seemed to instinctively know that she was supposed to support little Sarah. As for the phoenix, Harry wasn't really sure he wanted to bring it out from under the table, so he let it hang there for a few seconds before telling it to go see if the staff kids were all right. If they were, the majestic phoenix would join Caradoc, Orion and Flutterbunny on patrol. That completed, Harry felt better. He pulled himself out from under the table, just in time to see Ron wrench away from Vince, as if he was burnt.

The red head was the first to violently react to the memories. He leapt up, backed away from Vince. He hit the wall and started pounding on it, furiously, as if he were trying to bash his hands to pieces. "That didn't happen! Lies! _Lies!_" A shaking Madame Pomfrey dashed over to him and helped Vince pull him away from the wall. For his own safety, Ron was stinned.

Katie Bell sat down in the empty space across from Harry and Neville, looking oddly okay with what was going on. "I can't remember the fabrication," Katie said, "not all of it. Just… the Mind Healer said the charm didn't stick that well on me. She said I'm a… low-level empath, or something like that."

Harry and Neville looked at each other. "Ask Hermione." The bushy-haired girl was standing, slack-jawed, in the middle of no-man's land, staring at the part of the wall that Ron had been attacking. Su darted up from the Ravenclaw table to guide her friend down to a seat.

Katie cracked a half-smile. Towards the front of the Slytherin table, a first year girl was sobbing. No one from her house moved to help, and the patroni all looked too busy. Harry nodded to his friends before getting up and darting over to the little girl. He got some odd looks from the majority of the Slytherins – all who hadn't gotten their memory fixed. Harry didn't mind. He sat next to the girl and tentatively touched her shoulder.

She jerked away.

"Hey," Harry said, "It's okay. I won't hurt you."

"Of course you won't," the girl snarled. "You're a mighty, all powerful _Gryffindor._" She spat the last word like it was a curse. "You wouldn't have any idea what it's like being me."

He kept his voice even. "I know I wouldn't. If I knew how to be you, how could I be me?"

She slapped him. Hard. "Leave me be."

"Tell me what's wrong."

"No."

"Yes."

"Leave her along," Draco Malfoy said, drawling. "She can do what she wants."

Harry stayed perfectly calm. He was actually getting kind of good at that.

Anger roared through the girl's entire body. "What, so you can pick on me whenever you want but when he's around, you'll stand up for me? Shove it, Malfoy." The girl growled. "And you, Potter. Just leave."

Harry left, shrugging. "If you ever need to talk—"

The Gryffindor table had the most people who remembered both worlds now. Hermione was engaged in a very thorough conversation with Katie and looked about fine. That was good. Sarah was with one of the Mind Healers at that moment. Kleio rested by the Mind Healer, attracting the attention of a few of the other healers whenever they stopped to take a break. Slowly, people were starting to notice the five patroni scattered about the room. Harry glanced back at the Slytherin table. Flutterbunny had slithered over to the girl. Apparently, she didn't know it was a spell he cast, because she seemed willing enough to accept the snake patroni to stay next to her. Huh.

Paradise's friend Vicky was with a healer, though it didn't look like either Lily or Paradise had been fixed yet. Able and Kenneth still looked bewildered, as if they also hadn't had their memories fixed.

Harry veered off to the Hufflepuff table and the third year girls, where Megan was the only one who'd been healed. "Harry!" She nearly cried. "Sally-Anne's okay! I got a letter from her just the other day with this gorgeous white owl. She's okay!" She was crying.

Susan and Hannah sat across from Megan, both looking completely and totally confused. "You'll remember," Harry explained. "And that's my owl, Hedwig." He gave Megan a quick hug before moving off to see if other people needed help. She broke into further, happy tears. Susan and Hannah instantly sat forward, demanding to know how she knew the Boy-Who-Lived well enough to get a _hug._ The grateful, crying Megan couldn't explain beyond a shake of her head and a point to the Mind Healers.

Eddie Carmichael hadn't been healed yet. None of the various other Harrys seemed to have any idea what was going on. Fred and George looked like they were plotting to figure out how to market the problems, and finger food and various snacks were starting to appear on the four separate tables.

A Hufflepuff that Harry didn't know was pounding on the Great Hall doors, beginning the aurors to let him out. Harry bent in his path and moved hurried towards the Great Hall. "Hi," he said, as cheerfully as he could muster, "what do you need?"

The Hufflepuff shook. "I want _out._"

"Sorry, kid," said the female auror.

"Is there anything you need from outside?" Harry asked, trying to get the older boy to stop being so hysterical. "Something maybe a house elf could retrieve for you?"

The Hufflepuff whirled on Harry. "Look, kid, I don't know who you think you are, but I bet you just didn't wake up and realize that you forget that your brother's had a relapse in his cancer! You'll excuse me if I _want to get to the owlery!_"

The aurors looked at each other, semi-close to horrified. Harry's stomach twisted and clenched. "I—I think my owl is my familiar, so I could call her and you could use her to send your letter. Is there… is there anything I can do for your brother?"

"Not if you can convince my mom and dad to actually pay for his treatment," the Hufflepuff growled, moodily. "They don't think their stupid squib is worth the trouble."

Harry instantly called Hedwig. She instantly responded. "My owl's coming." Harry said. "And, do you know about how much the treatments cost? Do your parents have the funds to care for him?"

"Kid—" The Hufflepuff actually looked. He stopped talking. He gaped. "You're Harry Potter."

"Yes."

The aurors were staring at him. "Cor," muttered the young woman.

"Tell me about your brother," Harry said, ignoring the incredulous stares of the adults. "What's his name?"

The boy swallowed, but willingly enough followed Harry's lead to the Gryffindor table, which was nearest. "Brian, Brian Summerby. He's seven. My parents don't care much for him, because he's a squib. I've looked, there's no magical cure for leukaemia and they don't bother paying much attention to him anyway." The Hufflepuff looked resentful. "I just want to get him well."

Hedwig swooped in from the owl-light in the ceiling and headed straight for Harry and the Hufflepuff. The boy gratefully pulled a crumbled letter from his pocket and handed it to Harry. The Gryffindor borrowed parchment and a quill from Percy Weasley, who was sitting not far away. "If it's the only way to care for your brother, would you leave you parents?" He asked, not quite sure of how to phrase the letter.

"Yes," The Hufflepuff said, quietly.

"Right. Any other siblings?"

"No."

"Good."

Harry tied the Hufflepuff's letter to his brother and his own letter to Mr. and Mrs. Summerby and let Hedwig fly away. "What did you say?" asked the Hufflepuff.

"I said that if they don't start caring for their son, Harry Potter is going to make their lives miserable, starting by taking away their kids and then ruining their whole existence." He shrugged. "I tried to sound threatening, but I'm not sure I pulled it off. Anyway, if they don't start caring for Brian, I'll take him in as a ward and, you know, get treatment and everything. We'll work out your situation if it comes to that too."

The Hufflepuff stared. Slowly, he stuck out his hand. "I'm David Summerby."

Harry shook his hand. "Harry Potter, nice to meet you."

Neither of them noticed the slack jawed aurors who were _still_ staring at Harry.

Harry left David at the end of the Gryffindor table. The boy was much calmer and seemed infinitely grateful. Harry wondered how his situation would play out. He wasn't worried about his end of things; even if the Summerbys cast out Brian and David, he had enough money to care for himself, Paradise, the Spinnets, and at least a hundred other people some six gajillion times over. And besides, Harry liked helping people. Sarah had joined Hermione and Neville at the Gryffindor table. Kleio sat next to her, regal and queen like.

Harry sat down inside Kleio, forcing the indignant patronus down to the floor. "You know you're my friend, Sarah." He whispered, reaching below the table and folding her hand inside his. "No matter what those fake memories told you." The quivering girl leaned against him, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. She didn't speak. She didn't cry. She just leaned there. Exhausted. That seemed to fit the whole mood of the Great Hall.

The Mind Healers were working quickly, but they'd barely made it through a third of the people. They had to take more and more breaks between people to build up their strength. Students started to eat the finger food, albeit reluctantly. Hermione and a few of the Ravenclaws started worrying about homework. About an hour an half into the procedure, Dumbledore stood up and announced that classes would be canceled for at least the next day. Harry wished aloud that his book on languages was there. With the slightest pop of house elf apparition, Dobby appeared under the table, holding the book and grinning a maniac grin.

Harry liked having a crazy house-elf indebted to him. Hermione stared at him when he pulled the book out from under the table. He didn't even know where Dobby had gotten as it, as he didn't remember having it in the memories, but again… those were just memories. Sarah stayed pressed against him, absent-mindedly eating food on the plate in front of her. Harry promised Hermione he'd pay her back before pressing a piece of parchment and a quill into Sarah's hands. She looked at the quill, skeptical, before starting a very detailed sketch of the somber chaos within the Great Hall. She refused to move from Harry's side.

Able joined them, a good two hours into the process. He was shell-shocked, like so many others, and kept muttering about how he treated his sister. The five friends all seemed to want to talk, but none of them really knew what to say. "Later?" Harry suggested, chewing on some type of vegetable. "When we've had more time to digest it?"

His friends nodded.

That was when Paradise hit him. Literally. She raced through the space between the tables and threw herself into the space next to Harry, opposite Harry. "I'm scared," she whimpered, immediately. Aegisa was bounding down the length of the Gryffindor table, even if she wasn't tangible, people still recoiled when the lion cub bounced over their hands or through their food. "I don't want that to happen again." Harry wrapped a free arm over her shoulder. Aegisa caught up and sat on the table, staring at Paradise with her nose cocked downward.

"I'm sorry, Paradise," Harry said, holding her a little closer. "You're the best little sister I could ask for." She sniffled.

Romilda Vane approached them, standing behind Able, but not saying anything. Only Harry, Sarah and Paradise could actually see her. Able caught Harry's eye and saw the warning in it. He turned and plopped his sister into the seat beside him, before she had a chance to run. "You were so mean to me," Romilda whimpered, "Why were you so mean?"

"I'm sorry!" Able half-cried. "I didn't mean to be. I didn't want to be. It was all fabricated. Right?"

"It still hurts," Romilda said. She looked across the table at Paradise, who was tucked into her older brother's side. For that split second, Romilda was ever so jealous. She pushed it aside. She'd never want Paradise's life over her own. "I still don't want to trust you."

"Romi," Able said, "I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to regain your trust, okay? Don't let me hurt you, ever again." At her tentative nod, Able pulled his younger sister in for a hug. She tucked her head under his chin and held back sobs.

"I'm glad it wasn't real," Romilda said.

"Me too."

Harry, Neville, Hermione, Sarah and Paradise all looked like they agreed with the two Vanes. Up in no-man's land, Ginny Weasley stood, shakily, as if she didn't trust her feet to keep her upright. Madame Pomfrey watched her, worried that she'd react like her closest brother. Ginny just closed her eyes, struggling to breathe. She passed out of her own accord. One of the student healers caught her before she could hit the ground. The youngest Weasley was escorted out of the Great Hall to the infirmary.

All of the staff had been healed by now. Three hours in and nearly all the Gryffindors, most of the Hufflepuffs, a good portion of the Ravencalws, and only a few Slytherins had been healed. None of the Mind Healers had touched Dumbledore or Snape. Apparently, they had unbroken the charms on each other. Which was unnerving. Did they have so many secrets they wouldn't let anyone in their minds? Harry wondered if there where methods to keep an unwanted person out of his head. The healers had to be using some difficult mind magic…

The phoenix patroni swooped downward and landed, well, seemed to land, in the space between Hermione's and Neville's head. Hermione looked up at the stately silver bird. "I don't remember this one. Or the swan. Should I?"

"I don't think so," Harry said, not even fully sure when he'd first conjured the phoenix. Sure, he remembered the phoenix's starting memory. And Dumbledore had been there, which was odd. He'd yet to put his patroni against a dementor again, not since that night at the Quidditch pitch. He didn't want to fall again. The swan was also at least semi-new. "The swan's name is Kleio."

"Can patroni even be magical creatures?" Hermione asked.

Sarah half smirked. "Can anyone even create multiple patroni?"

"Point," Hermione said, nibbling on a quill nub. She'd had her book back with her when they were called down to the Great Hall, so unlike the majority of the students, she had something to do. Sarah had half-finished her artwork. Harry had started translating a piece of text from English to Latin. When he had the passage completely in Latin, he cast a translating spell and the words switched back to English. He had a few glaring mistakes, but nothing too major. He had a lot more problems doing the same process with Egyptian and then with Greek. Fluency was _hard._

"We've been here for three hours," Able said. Romilda was still at his side. "What do you think will happen when they finish?"

"We already don't have school tomorrow," Hermione didn't sound as disappointed as she normally would have. "I don't think most everyone here really wants to think about lessons and learning." This was coming from a girl bent over a history textbook.

Alicia Spinnet sat down next to Sarah and took her sister's hand. "You okay?" Sarah nodded. "Need anything?" Alicia persisted. Sarah shook her head. The older Spinnet glanced down at the piece of parchment with a half-finished sketch. "Which colors do you want?" Sarah shrugged. "Sarah! Which colors do you want?"

Still slightly hesitant, Sarah looked at her older sister with grateful, awe-filled eyes. "Red, orange and yellow, as bright as you can make them."

"Right." Alicia used her fingernail and chipped off three slivers of wood from the table. She pulled out her wand, concentrated, and had the slivers of wood about the size of a pencil. With another spell, Alicia charmed the slivers to be hollow. She plucked three more slivers from the table and transfigured those into graphite before casting a color change charm. Harry and his friends watched with interest. It was a pretty simple group of charms and transfigurations, and none of them had thought to construct pencil in such a manner. Alicia jammed the three sticks of graphite in the hollow pencil shafts, cast a final spell that no one recognized, squeezed her sister's shoulder and left.

Sarah picked up the yellow pencil, pressed to the parchment, and started scraping away.

Paradise whimpered. "I love magic, I really do. But I'm trying really hard to like it right now."

Harry nodded.

Hermione pursed her lips. "Who gets naming rights on the phoenix?"

Harry blinked. She was thinking about that now? Well. It probably would have been hard not too, what with that phoenix perched above her shoulder. He was attracting a lot of attention from around the hall. People were beginning to remember and figure out that the odd silver animals were Harry's. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"Let me thing about it," Hermione responded, looking up at the bird again.

That was when the last student was healed and the mind healer all seemed to deflate, all exhausted. Healer Mena, their obvious leader, moved over to the staff table, talking animatedly with Poppy, Dumbledore and McGonagall. Dumbledore did not look happy with what the women were telling him. After a long while, Dumbledore stood and the women moved away from in front of him, giving the students a clear few of their headmaster. "Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, quietly, "as just suffered an unimaginable travesty against you, its students. As such, we will be cancelling all classes, clubs, rehearsals, and practices for the following week."

Astonished, pleased gasps ran through the students.

"You may remain at Hogwarts. You may also write to your guardian and, if they are capable of coming to get you, be released into their custody. For muggleborns and students incapable of arranging transport home, the professors of this institution have offered to transport some students to their respected homes via side-along apparition. Please note that side-along apparition is only truly capable with one person and is very tiring, so we cannot transport everyone in such a manner. Also, if you are being transported with side-along, we ask you pack no more than a book bag. We are releasing you from the Great Hall at this moment; please be polite and do not stampede the owlery."

"Harry—" Hermione said, when he made no move to get up, "can I borrow Hedwig?"

"I sent her off with a threat," Harry said, waving a vague hand through the air. "Which you probably want to hear about, but I'll tell you later. So, sorry."

"You can use Lucy," Romilda said, still stuck to Able's side. "I mean, Able's got his own owl to message our parents."

"Thanks, Romilda," Hermione said, smiling. "I've got parchment right here if you guys want to start writing letters now."

Alicia reappeared while Able, Hermione, Neville and Sarah scribbled notes to their parents with brief exclamations and wishes to be picked up. The Great Hall emptied quickly, with students running back to their common rooms and dorms for writing utensils and parchments. "On Thursday," Neville said, cautiously, "do you guys want to floo over and we could spend the day together?"

Hermione looked slightly glum at that, but Harry and Able both nodded. The rest of the girls seemed to think they were not invited. Professor Sinistra said down next to Paradise and the little girl unlatched from Harry and latched onto her guardian. "I could probably come get you, Miss Granger, if you want to attend this get together."

Hermione beamed.

"Sarah?" Neville asked.

"Oh, urm," Sarah looked at Alicia, before looking back at her friends. "Yeah. I think I can make it."

"Awesome," Neville said. "Let me get all your floo addresses. And Paradise, Romilda, if the two of you want to come, that's fine." More nods, more exchanging of papers. Parchment was torn, scribbled on, and passed between the four magical families there. Hermione watched the exchange with a half interested air. Professor Sinistra did the writing for Harry and Paradise, as neither of them actually knew what their floo address was. "I'll firecall or owl you if Gram says it's not okay."

"It's been an odd day," Hermione remarked.

Harry's patroni gathered too him and he started dispelling them. "Yeah. It's just— I'm definitely glad they aren't going to force us to try and learn. I don't think my mind could handle that."

"See you Thursday then," Sarah said, standing. Alicia took the note from Sarah's hand and headed for the owlery. Able followed her, promising to owl his note, Hermione's note, and Neville's note.

"See you Thursday," Neville echoed, somberly.

"Come on you too," Aurora said, to her two wards. "We're leaving now. The elfs are already transporting what you need over to my cottage."

Neville and Hermione left together, Sarah and Romilda followed them. Hermione seemed to work extra hard to keep the two younger girls involved in the conversation. "Aurora," Harry started, "are Tyler, Ciara and Becks all right? I—I think I hurt Becks, without meaning too. At least, it was earlier this morning and I wanted to apologize but…"

"She understands, Harry," Aurora said, running a comforting hand through his hair. To Harry, it still felt rather weird. But he grabbed his book on languages and followed Aurora and Paradise out the back door of the Great Hall. They moved through the castle at a pretty quick clip, heading for Aurora's chambers. She didn't grab much, just whatever books happened to be lying on the little table, before handing both Harry and Paradise floo powered. She told them the passcode and Harry flew through first, feeling that the whole thing was rushed and hurried and something was very, very wrong if she'd been that insistent of getting them out of Hogwarts so quickly. He managed to move out of the way before Paradise fell through. The two of them stood there, in the dark of an unknown house.

Aurora flooed through, flicked her wand, and the lights blared on. "Welcome home, kids."

Harry and Paradise looked at each other, eyes wide. Would that finally be true?


	16. Unscheduled Vacation Not

_A/N: Actually, yes, I do know that Beauty in the Beast was in theaters November '91, at least in the USA (where all my info comes from) and so it wouldn't be there in October of '93, but I honestly don't care. Uh-oh. Shucks to be you, history fanatic. =P Besides, I didn't want to have them watch Jurassic Park and then deal with Paradise freaking out about it. _

Chapter 16

Unscheduled Vacation… Not

He woke and didn't know where he was. The ceiling was white. The walls were blue. There was another twin bed not far from him with a slightly snoring lump curled into the paler blue comforters. Oh. Right. _Home_: Ursa-upon-Heavens, the magical house in the middle of nowhere. From the two windows in the opposite wall, Harry could tell it was not quite morning. The clock by his bed only confirmed that. It was 5:14. Harry climbed out of bed and through a dress robe on over his shoulder. Paradise had crashed as soon as they'd arrived at the college, so Aurora had put her to bed while two Hogwarts elves situated their trunks. He'd had the forethought to pull out a set of robes in case he needed to wake up in the middle of the night.

Harry padded out of the little guest room and in to the main room. Ursa had five rooms, or so he'd heard. Two bed rooms, a living room, and then a joint kitchen and dining room area. Over the whole house, stretched an attic, but Harry hadn't seen that yet. He flicked on a soft lamp in the middle of the living room and picked up _The Princess and the Goblin_ from the overcrowded table. Somehow, Aurora had brought it along. He curled into one of the comfortable chairs and read.

And read. And read. And read.

When he finished the book, neither Aurora nor Paradise was awake. But he was hungry. Harry moved into the kitchen. The clock said it was just after eight. The boy stared at the appliance-less kitchen and wondered where to even begin. "Um." A wooden spoon popped upright and pointed to a note stuck to the icebox. It was from Aurora, basically ordering him not to prepare any food until he knew his way around the kitchen. There was fruit in the icebox and he was free to go outside if he so choose.

Harry pried open the icebox and grabbed an apple. Then he headed outside. Aurora's garden was overrun and haphazard and probably nothing more than a plot of once organized weeds. He would have started weeding, but he couldn't tell flower from weed and there wasn't much he'd be able to do in a week. The sun was fully up, shining down on the world in a cheerful, happy way that belied Harry's mood. With no book to distract him, his mind kept slipping from thought to thought, wanting to examine the artificial memories, but not wanting to deal with horrid he thought it was.

Divination had only lived up to his prediction of it; he was glad he'd switched out of it so early on. Huh. Why on earth would he have consented to remain in the class? He was still struggling with the fact he'd just signed up for what Ron had signed up for without second thoughts.

But then that was before the dementors. That was before when he faced that fact that it was a dangerous world out there. He wanted to be prepared. Two owls winged their way towards him, visible only against the morning sun. Harry went back inside, but left the door open so the birds could fly straight inside. One of them was almost most certainly Hedwig, but he didn't recognize the other. He found a place to dispose of the apple core, and by then, Hedwig and the large, ruffled looking barn owl that followed her had landed on the table. They both held out their legs, so the barn owl wasn't for Paradise or Aurora.

Harry untied both letters and got water for the two owls. The barn took a long sip and took off immediately. Harry put Hedwig's letter aside and slipped open the letter. It was addressed to _Mr. HJ Potter, Student, resident of Ursa-on-Heaven, in the Middle of Nowhere._ That was _really_ this place's address? His teacher needed more imagination. Still, the letter looked official.

_Mr. H.J. Potter_

_I am unknown to you; I am one Daniel Jainsberg, Head Administrator at St. Mungo's Hospital for the Magical Ailment. Due to the circumstances surrounding Hogwarts' impromptu vacation, the staff at St. Mungo's have decided to hold a seminar for those students that our Mind Healers deemed worthy of instruction in healing arts no longer taught at Hogwarts. In this regard, I would like to extend to you the offer of attending a four hour session on Monday-Saturday, from 1pm to 5pm. Should you wish to attend, the enclosed quill is a portkey that will activate at 12:45pm to bring you to St. Mungo's. If you or your guardian have any questions, please feel free to firecall St. Mungo's administrative office._

_If you so choose to attend, please bring appropriate note taking material for around an hour of note taking, bring a wand, and wear practical clothes._

_Sincerely,_

_Daniel Jainsberg_

_Administrator_

_St. Mungo's Hospital for the Magical Ailment_

"What's that?" Paradise mumbled, sleep still in her voice.

"An invitation to go to school over vacation," Harry said, with a grin.

"You can't do that," Paradise said, more alert. "You just can't." She glanced at Harry's face. "You're going to do it. My brother's a Ravenclaw!"

"This is _healing_," Harry said, trying to keep the evident squeal out of his voice. "_Healing. _I can use this to help people!"

Paradise stared. "Okay. I misspoke. My brother's a true-born Hufflepuff!"

Harry stuck his tongue out at her. He grabbed Hedwig's letter and pulled open the seal. Paradise grabbed the letter from St. Mungo's and read it briefly before shrugging. "I'm hungry." Harry pointed her into the kitchen. The letter was, predictably, from the Summerbys.

_Lord Potter,_

_We can assure you, our son is now getting the proper care. You can verify this through David. _

_Please stay out of our lives._

_Gregory Summerby_

That felt weird. Harry stuffed the letter in his pocket. He'd owl David later to make sure everything was okay. "Is there anything more than fruit?" Paradise asked, from the other room.

"Just eat an apple," Harry called. He headed for the only real room he hadn't yet seen. And knocked. It was late enough that he really didn't feel guilty waking Aurora up, but he didn't… he didn't… this didn't feel _right._

"Just a second, Harry." Aurora said, still from inside her room. How'd she know it was him and not Paradise?

Harry sat down in one of the armchairs and waited for his guardian. She emerged in short order. If a bit disheveled. "I'm still not a morning person," Aurora grumbled, sitting next to Harry. He handled her the St. Mungo's letter. She read, sighed, and looked at her young charge. "If I don't let you go, I'm going to be a bad guy for a while, aren't I?" The shining, eager light in Harry's eye told her the whole story. This kid wanted to heal. "You're welcome to go, Harry."

"Yes!"

"But Aurora!" Paradise whined, coming into the room from the kitchen. "You can't let him do school during vacation. It's not healthy."

"You do your summer homework at the last second, don't you," Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

"'course. Didn't you?"

"Well, the past two years—"

"Ha! Gotcha now."

"_Children,_" Aurora said, drawling her words out. "Settle."

"Yes, Aurora," they said in unison.

She blinked at the two children, so full innocence when their lives had been so full of unnecessary pain. "I need to report back to Hogwarts on Saturday morning. That gives us five days to do what you want and what you feel is necessary. Harry, I'm sure you can be transported from Hogwarts to St. Mungo's easily enough. And on Thursday, you can probably go to Mungo's from Neville's and return to the same place. But the two of you, what do you want to do in the morning and the evenings of the other days?"

Harry and Paradise looked at each other.

"Look, even if there's no way I can provide it, I want to know what you'd like to do."

"Cinema?" Paradise said, sounding hopeful. Harry nodded.

"I can do that. Harry?"

"Do you think we could visit my family vaults, or one of them? Or, just to see what it's like. And maybe if we could go to one of my England houses…" Aurora had an inkling that dealing with Harry's wealth would take much more time than he expected. "And I want to take Paradise shopping for whatever she wants, but I don't personally want to go shopping, so can I just give Para money and let you go shopping while I'm at St. Mungo's?"

Their guardian had to fight the instinct to not let Harry buy things. He was buying a Firebolt for someone, because he was technically the head of their old house. The kid was generous. And if a Firebolt was what he wanted to give away to Alicia, she didn't really want to think of what his Christmas presidents for his closest friends would be. Paradise's eyes were gleaming. "That sounds good. Although, I will put a limit on whatever allowance or amount of money you give Paradise." The girl pouted. "About fifty galleons a year, you think?" Paradise gaped.

Harry nodded. "Well, if she gets an extra twenty galleons to spend during December for Christmas. And anything that she doesn't spend of that can revert back to me."

"Good with me. What do you think Paradise?"

The girl blinked. To Harry, she whispered, "How _loaded_ are you?"

"Um, well, the exact number keeps changing and Mr. Regan expects a big boom when we release the Harry Potter endorsed clothing line in early November. And it doesn't hurt to own diamond mines. Or a successful Quidditch team. In liquid assets, you know, the galleons, sickles and knuts, I'm pretty much a trillionaire. That probably triples in value when you add all my properties and inventories and the family vaults. Right now I'd say I'm a multi-trillionaire."

Paradise blinked. Even Aurora was surprised at hearing the numbers again. "So you're like, the richest man in the world?" Paradise asked, awed.

"Urm—"

"Anyway, that allowance sounds great to me," Paradise said, grinning, when Harry trailed off. "Can I get a pet? Like a real owl?"

"Of course!" That was both Aurora and Harry. They looked at each other. Harry blushed.

The new family didn't do anything that morning. They sat around, talked, and introduced each other to various muggle and wizarding games. They ate, and while Paradise ran outside to climb a tree, Aurora and Harry talked about money and the things you couldn't buy with it. Not to her surprise, Aurora found Harry completely grounded in reality and well aware that, while he might have been the richest man in the world, that didn't mean a thing if he didn't do the right things with it. _Healer_, kept running through Harry's mind at the time. Of if not a healer, than someone would could invent new spells to help people, or find magical cures to leukaemia!

They ate lunch, after Harry insisted that Aurora show him his way around a magical kitchen. After lunch, Harry gathered note taking materials and readied to be portkeyed – Aurora had to explain that it was yet another transportation device – to St. Mungo's. Paradise waved him goodbye and promised to have a ridiculously good time relaxing while he was studying. Harry didn't care. Traveling by portkey wasn't fun. He was pinched and pulled and bumped and torn through space before being dropped unceremonially on a hard, white tile floor.

"Mr. Potter," said a friendly voice, "Welcome to St. Mungo's."

Harry climbed to his feet, readjusted his book bag, and blinked up at the elderly man greeting him. "Hi."

"Please move away from the transport zone," said the man. As Harry did so, he stuck out his hand. "I am Daniel Jainsberg. Ah, here comes Ms. Bell right now."

With that, Katie kerthumped into the floor. She bounced up easily enough, waved to Harry and greeted Jainsberg fluidly. He directed the two of them down a hallway and into a classroom. Katie nearly _dragged_ Harry along; she was easily ten times more excited than he and that was saying something. He recognized a few of the Hogwarts students, but it was difficult when none of them were wearing a house uniform. There were only five others in the room, seven in total. To Harry, it seemed as if everyone was between fifth and third year. He and Katie were the only Gryffindors.

Harry bounced right up and introduced himself to the closet kid. "Julius Vaisey," said the boy, with some mild surprise when he was asked for his name. "Fourth year Slytherin."

Next was Cho Chang, fourth year Ravenclaw. After her was Jacob Dare, fifth year Sltyerhin. After him was Horizon Zale, fifth year Hufflepuff (Harry sort of remembered other Zales, from somewhere. Probably. He wasn't really trusting his memory at that point.) And lastly, was Fae Daniels, another fifth year Hufflepuff. Harry wasn't really weirded out by being the only third year. He had enough randomly odd things happen to him that, eh, any learning opportunity should be valued.

Jainsberg entered the room in a few minutes and they immediately started talking about the Mind and how the Mind worked. It was fascinating stuff. Harry learned what a neuron was. He learned how magic – which messed up electricity – could twist the electrical impulse within and neuron and stop it from working probably. Patients with a severe over exposure to _crucio_ had brain problems because those electrical impulses were magically damaged. Sometimes, Jainsberg carefully emphasized the rarity of the event, to not end up with seven scared teenagers on his hands, a botched memory charm could do the same thing. Then abruptly as he came in, Jainsberg left and another mind healer, one of the women from Hogwart's the day before walked in and proclaimed that Jainsberg had no idea what he was talking and that he was a muggle raised idiot. Katie instantly took offense and started arguing that Jainsberg had science on his side.

The new healer ignored Katie and presented a theory that brains worked on magic itself, and even Muggles had just a small amount of magic – not enough to show up on any scan – but enough to keep the brain working. She said that magic was integral to every aspect of the nervous system and without magic, the brain simply wouldn't work. Her theory on why prolonged _crucio_ victims went crazy was the magic of their brain stopped working properly and could no longer function. When she'd finished explaining that, Jainsberg reentered the room and the two of them had a debate as to which theory was more medically sound. They encouraged the students to take part and further theorize why either idea could be correct.

Harry, Katie and Jacob took Jainsberg side of the argument. Horizon, Fae, Cho and Julius took the woman's side of the argument. Until the two and a half hour mark, they simply argued about how the mind could work. At that time, Jainsberg stopped the discussion and asked each individual people what they had learned from that exercise.

Cho immediately answered that sometimes, there are two different ideas and neither may be wrong. Jacob said that magic messes with science. Horizon echoed Cho. Katie and Julius seemed to believe that Jainsberg had made them do that exercise because he wanted them to think outside their level of training. Fae declined to answer. When Jainsberg got to Harry, the youngest of the lot tentatively muttered that they probably did the exercise to study backgrounds. He knew that Horizon was a noah, and Fae seemed to carry herself like someone from one of the higher levels of nobility. Cho and Julius acted like purebloods. While he was muggle raised, he knew Katie was a halfblood, and it wasn't hard to hypothesis that Dare could be a halfblood or muggleborn too – it seemed conceivable that the bias of whatever childhood seemed to make a big difference on how people saw the world.

Jainsberg picked one word out of Harry's answer. _Bias._ They spent the next half hour debating how bias affects people and how it sometimes twists the mind. At the three hour mark, Jainsberg brought them on a tour through one of the levels of St. Mungo's; a wing specifically oriented to treat long term patients who had mind problems. "I know this is probably an extreme cautionary tale," Jainsberg said, shrugging, "but this is what happens when you experiment with Mind Arts. This _insanity._ I'm not going to insult your intelligence by giving you a lot of dos and don'ts. You're smarter than that. Back to the room now."

They were given floos home. Harry arrived to find Aurora and Paradise waiting for him, ready to side-along apparate to a movie theater at the nearest town, which Paradise said should still qualify as the middle of nowhere. Harry was pretty sure she was a London girl. Aurora took Harry first and then popped back with Paradise within a few seconds. She looked a rather tired, but gamely followed when Paradise dragged both of them to the cinema and asked for _Beauty and the Beast._ It was a fairytale. Harry was pretty sure he shouldn't have been happy about that, but he couldn't help it. He truly did enjoy fairytales.

And Beauty and the Beast was _good._ Of course, seeing any movie in the theatre was awesome, but this fairytale was particularly enjoyable. All the dancing and singing plates and dishes made him things of the house elves at Hogwarts. The room with all the shadowy creatures and things could be compared to that third floor corridor crossed with the horrid dementors. It was actually rather horrible, but fun all around. _Down with Gaston!_ The little family wandered around the town for a few minutes before heading into a small café for dinner. They ate and Aurora left Harry in the café before she popped Paradise home. She was back for Harry within seconds.

Back at Ursa-upon-Heavens, Aurora curled into the couch with a magic replenishing potion that Harry fetched for her from his trunk. Paradise looked slightly curious, but neither she nor Aurora dared as why Harry kept a variety of helpful potions tucked away. Plans were made for when to head to Gringotts in the morning. Harry and Paradise both wanted to go early, which had Sinistra bemoaning her astronomist sleep schedule. They laughed at her.

Paradise didn't fall asleep quickly, she was that excited about shopping the following day. Harry stayed up, penning a note first to Neville telling him about the training and that he'd need to leave between one and five, and then writing a long letter to Hermione about all they learned about the mind. He fingered she'd appreciate it. He told Hedwig to deliver the note to Neville first, and then head over to Hermione's. She hooted, happily, before winging off on his command.

"What kind of owl should I get, Harry?" Paradise asked, when he finally turned the light off.

"Whichever one you like the most, Paradise."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yes."

o.o.o.o.o.o

They didn't make it through the night. Paradise started screaming, shortly after two am. Harry woke instantly, always a light sleeper. He tried to get her to wake up, but she wouldn't wake. She only screamed. Aurora didn't wake and wouldn't wake when Harry called for her. A frustrated Harry was out of ideas until he grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and splashed it all over Paradise's face.

She woke, shivering. Her screams turned into quick, shallow sobs and it took her over an hour to fall back asleep. All Harry could manage to learn from her gasping words was that the alternate reality had not been kind to her, especially in the form of Marcus Flint. That was all. And she couldn't say more. So when eventually she did manage to sleep, Harry found himself struggling to fall asleep. But, surprisingly, he managed.

He'd had the this type of dream before, where he's with one or two of his friends and the dementors come and start sucking the life from his friends and he can't stop them because his patroni don't work. These dreams terrify him. This time, he was walking with Paradise and Sarah down an abandoned path. Sarah had a yellow pencil and kept angrily scribbling on things. Her yellow blobs were almost as terrifying as… a dementor swooped down and sucked away her life. Her screams filled Harry's every cell. Until Paradise started screaming. He couldn't protect them. He cast the spell again and again but the patroni couldn't come. They wouldn't come!

"Harry!" Paradise splashed cold water of his face, even though he was waking up to her call. Still… he blinked blearily at her, obviously not fully aware of what was going on. He stared at Paradise and the empty water glass in her hand and the felt his own wet face and hair. "Payback," Paradise mumbled, with no hint of humor or even attempted humor. She was just sad.

"What time is?" Harry asked, groping around for his glasses.

"'bout four," Paradise said.

"Sleep again?" Harry said, not really sure if he'd manage it.

Paradise shrugged. "I don't know. Can you read me a story?"

Harry pulled his book of fairytales from his still packed trunk and started to read the story he was on. Paradise curled into a ball and fell asleep at the foot of his bed. When he was sure she was asleep, Harry extinguished the light and, to his dreamy surprise, fell asleep as well. That was how Aurora found them, some ten minutes after their scheduled wake-up time. Both children were asleep, curled up. Paradise had somehow yanked the covers untucked and rolled up in them. She was curled into an adorable ball of eleven-year-old girl.

One of them must have had a nightmare again. Guilt twinged at Aurora; she'd slept whatever their nighttime troubles had been. "Harry, Paradise." She didn't need to speak loudly. Both children jolted upright, Paradise still half asleep, but Harry awake and already reaching for his wand. The lives they had previously lived… the horrors they so consistently lived with… who could do that to a child? "I'm not going to ask if you're okay; I know you're not. Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" Paradise mutely shook her head. Harry said he'd had the dementor-death dream again. He'd told her about it, like he was learning to do. "Breakfast?"

Breakfast was quiet. Both the children ate, but they did not eat a lot. Both the children talked, but they did not talk a lot. Aurora sent the two of them to prepare for their day out while she flicked the few spells in the kitchen to begin the cleaning process. She let in an owl from the window and paid for a copy of the Daily Prophet.

_Realities Crossed! Children Subjected to Mind Horrors!_

_Unexpected Vacation, Explained! Illegal Memory Modifications!_

The articles were many, vast, and long. Aurora stared at the paper, not really understanding the information that was fulfilling her head. These articles… all claiming to know the cause and predicting the effects of some impossible charm gone wrong. She could remember both realities clearly enough. She could remember talking with Poppy complaining about how bullies could pick on the younger children and nothing would be done. She remembered her best friend dissolving into tears one night because of the state a little first year girl was found in. No one had figured out who'd…

Aurora started to shake.

"Here," she could hear Harry saying a few rooms away, "Why don't you borrow this cloak for today? It'll match that skirt brilliantly."

She knew that wasn't the reason Harry was insisting Paradise wear one of his cloaks. That boy was generous to a fault. The professor and new guardian continued to shake, desperately fighting for control in her mind and body.

_These children,_ ran a featured quote from Mind Healer Alyssa Mena, _had a month of their lives erased a__nd replaced with new, somewhat horrific memories. What I saw in the fully developed alternate world sickened me. I, even, with so much experience with such horrific acts struggled to deal with what I saw in the alternate Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and W__izardry. I saw a world where students bullied, cheated, injured, lied and even raped other students without punishment. The pain I felt in these children's minds should be endured by no one, especially school kids! These children will deal with a severe se__nse of distorted reality for long after any physical effects of this event have faded. The staff of St. Mungo's strongly recommends that parents seek help in the recovery of their children. And if reform isn't brought to Hogwarts in response to this full-s__cale terrorist act, the staff of St. Mungo's, who are parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, siblings, and friends of current students, shall bring reform by ourselves._

Mena was quoted frequently, in part, or even in whole when she ranted on for some three pages about how the fully-developed world she'd seen glimpses of proved that such a crime was pre-mediated.

"Aurora?" Harry again, "you okay?"

Aurora looked down at the kids. Harry was right. His navy blue cloak really did match Paradise's simplistic gray and blue skirt. _"This poor girl,"_ she could remember Poppy saying in the alternate memories, _"just a first year, and so brave. She shouldn't have to know what rape is!"_

"Ready to go?" Paradise asked, hoping from one foot to the other. Harry had a bag slung over his shoulder that probably held everything he needed for class. Aurora forced herself to put down the paper, nod, and join her two charges at the fireplace.


	17. Trust is a Double Edged Sword

Chapter 17

Trust is a Double Edged Sword

They flooed to a busy Gringotts, at least for an early Tuesday morning when most everyone was supposed to be at school or work. Harry scanned the crowds for anyone he knew… Artemis Ingraham and her sister were with a stately looking woman at a teller's station. And Emma and William were by the door, both looking into the middle of the bank where, ah yes, there was Mary and a girl who looked exactly like Mary, but in miniature. Mary saw him at about the same time and waved, changing her course and pulling along the girl who had to be her younger sister.

"Hi Harry!" Mary said, "Professor, Paradise!"

"Hey Mary," Harry said, "enjoying the break?" Paradise slid a little closer to Aurora, who placed a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. To her credit, Paradise didn't really flinched when faced with people she didn't know very well.

"Are you kidding me? No school; it's awesome. Not to mention Mum basically told us that any time we want, we can go to the Alley if Emma's around, and since William isn't allowed to come to the house, it's just great!"

"Maaaa-_ry_," drawled the little girl, rolling her eyes. By this point, Emma and William had noticed the odd trio and were within hearing range.

"Fine," Mary grinned. "Tali, this is Harry. Harry, this is my little sister, Natalie. We just call her Tali."

Natalie grinned, identical to Mary. "You're the Gryffindor seeker! I like Chaser better, but I'd probably be too small to make the chaser position when Angelina and Alicia leave in three years. By that time, you'll be a sixth year and big and a small little second year could beat you for the seeker spot! Then I could play seeker for a while before moving to chaser when—"

They stared at her, mostly amused.

Mary grimaced. "She knows more facts about the Gryffindor team than Wood. But she's never seen a game, so she doesn't know how good you are."

"I'm good!" Natalie persisted.

"Hi Harry, Professor Sinistra, Paradise." Emma said, standing next to them.

Natalie leaned around Harry and introduced herself to Paradise. Mary managed to pull Harry aside from the conversation a bit. "So are you just here to spend the day, or with a specific purpose?"

"Purpose," Harry said, feeling rather content. The MacDonald's good mood was slightly infectious. "We're going to try and inventory some of the family vaults I inherited."

Mary's eyes lit up with curiosity and eagerness and overall bounciness. "Fun!"

Harry could sense that she really, really wanted to come. "Wanna come?"

"Can I? You'd trust me with that?" At Harry's nod, Mary literally started bouncing. "Emma, can I go with them for the day? I know Mum said to stay with you, but it's _Professor_ Sinistra…"

Emma nodded. Natalie looked interested, but the eldest MacDonald didn't seem inclined to let the youngest leave her watch. "Should we meet up for lunch then, around one?" Emma suggested. "I've heard good things about a new café."

"We'd need to meet earlier, around twelve, but it sounds good," Sinistra said, confirming.

Emma and William said goodbye, dragging Natalie with them. Harry, Paradise and Mary followed Aurora to the nearest open teller. The goblin greeted them, his words clipped. He sounded _bored._ Accompaniment was called and the four companions were soon sent spinning down to the Moorland vault. On Remus's recommendations, they'd leave the Potter vault for last, as they could probably spend days in that place and never get out.

The Moorland vault was about the size of a Hogwarts classroom. There was some expensively looking, ornately carved furniture pushed against the back wall. Paradise curled into one of the armchairs and lamented that the arms of those chairs wouldn't be good for sitting on. Harry smirked. Mary found a bunch of letters folded into two boxes near the furniture. She started reading one of them aloud and stopped, mid-word, glanced at Paradise and then her professor before dropping the steamy love letter like it burnt her. Several books lined shelves pushed up against one of the walls. Harry had brought along a self-inking pen and a notebook and started copying down the titles. Aurora took over that job and told him to go explore. There were two sets of fancy dishes, one something-silver-ish and one delicate china.

In a wardrobe, which sat perched by the furniture, Paradise found a delicate wedding dress, several fur cloaks, and one cloak that she couldn't really see, well, not well. She pulled that cloak out of the wardrobe and put it on, just when Mary happened to look over at her. "An invisibility cloak! That's incredible!"

Harry looked down. Having a spare invisibility cloak would be _spectacular!_ But, he glanced at Sinistra's face, there was no way she'd let him have it at Hogwarts. It caused too much trouble. Paradise squeaked and put the cloak back. Both Harry and Aurora had been clear that they were only there to look. Harry found an extraneous book on Quidditch that he moved back to the shelves. There were three random dog statues propped up in a corner. Harry touched one on its head and the stone corgi bounded into life and started racing around the room. It got a good laugh; Harry made a mental note not to let the three animated statues sit in storage for the rest of their existence.

The vault was in no way packed, but it still took a good hour for Aurora to list all the books and then briefly note the other contents of the vault. While she finished, Harry activated all three stone dogs and he, Mary and Paradise romped around the room with their new pets. Mary absolutely fell in love with the little poodle; she named it Snickerdoodle. They were careful – at Mary's stern instructions – not to do any damage to the furniture. An heirloom set like that could be the most expensive thing in the vault.

When Aurora finished documenting everything they'd found, they turned the dogs off and left the Moorland vault. A bored looking goblin greeted then tersely, and with a sigh, drove the cart to the closest vault, from the Noble House of Arthure. The only thing Harry knew about his various vaults were their respective size - Potter the largest and Moorland the smallest – and that the Fallus vault was nothing other than a library. They'd decided to leave the library for another day.

Arthure was one of the larger vaults; it was only smaller than the Potter vault and one of the Enon vaults, but the first thing all four people noticed was the overwhelming _size_ of the vault. It would be _easy_ to get lost in the room.

"_Merlin's bloody trousers!_" Mary squealed.

"Miss McDonald!"

Mary blinked, sheepishly. "Sorry professor."

For the next three hours, the MacDonald, the Sinistra, the Aster, and the one and only Potter-Moorland-Aragan-Fallus-Arthure-Enon-Spinnet-Nanth-Bartholomew-Carine browsed the huge vault, often feeling utterly overwhelmed in the mix of everything_._

Paradise, who still wasn't as energetic as normal, plopped down in front of the bookshelves to list out the various books. There were textbooks from Hogwarts and what looked like advanced apprenticeship programs. There were muggle textbooks, mostly devoted to various sciences. There were novels, both muggle and magical. There were personal journals, research notes, and several books on obscure branches of magic. And those were just the third of the books she managed to get through in the three hours that she spent, copying down titles into Harry's notebook.

Right near the entrance to the vault, Mary perused racks and wardrobes filled with fabric finery. The gowns were exquisite and the men's suits were simply delectable. She spent enough time among the clothes to know that everything could be magically adjusted to fit someone else; each piece was tagged with a blue ribbon of tailoring magic that Mary only recognized because she'd spent too much time in Madame Malkins'. There were _rows_ of shoes and sashes and scarves and belts and more shoes and three suits of dragonhide armor. Mary stopped short by the dragonhide armor. That was _story_ book wealth. No one could afford dragonhide armor nowadays! Dragon armor hadn't even been _made_ in something like seventy years.

That brought Mary to what she instantly knew was mounds of jewelry. The Arthures had, by no measure, been a poor family. She'd estimate they were on the Malfoy level, and as the Malfoy's were the fourth richest family in magical Britain, that was saying something. Mary stared at the mass of sparkling jewels and diamonds and precious metals and _wow_… Power and prestige were two completely different things. The MacDonalds had prestige. The Malfoys had power. When Harry decided he wanted to change the world… the world would change. He had the prestige and the power.

Sinistra spent the three hours wrapping around the edge of the vault; ignoring the neatly organized wealth arranged in the middle. The vault edges were mostly pictures; some collected from famous magical or muggle artists, some of the Arthure family or other figures. There was a good thirty foot mural of Hogwarts on the back wall which was truly spectacular. It had been a big deal some seven years ago, when Cornelius Arthure had taken ill and died. All liquid assets had been donated to St. Mungos. His house and family vault had been left to The-Boy-Who-Lived, and everyone knew it. It just…

It was a lot to take in. Her ward, her _Harry_, was the single richest person in the world. And he was only thirteen. It wasn't worrisome; she knew there was no way he could hope to spend it all, even if he bought Firebolts for the entire populace of Hogwarts, and she knew he didn't plan on using any of this wealth purely for his own pleasure. She knew enough to know he wasn't comfortable. She was grateful though, that Harry probably didn't know the value behind these pictures or those clothes that she'd seen Mary disappear to, or all his houses, or the loads and loads of books. So many pictures…

For Harry, the three hours seemed to take forever to pass. Even as his friends and family had moved into the vault, he'd stayed on the threshold, not capable of movement or even truly tangible thought. It wasn't fair, that he'd been left all this when his mum had been the one who'd really deserved the credit. Why? Why? Tears traced down Harry's cheeks as he struggled to adapt.

When he finally gained control of his emotions, he moved just a few feet into the vault. To the left side of the threshold, there was an odd pile of things: things he'd always pictured would be owned by a little girl. An album rested on a writing desk in the middle of the collection of pink fairy themed items. Harry cracked open the album, flipping through to the end and settling on a rather interesting looking note.

_Mum's given up on this old thing, it's just me now. I'm sorry, beloved sister, that we can't find a cure for you. I promise we won't throw your things away, even this album. Mum can barely stand the sight of all this stuff now. She's just so lost__, loosing you. Oh sister, I miss you. I want to hope for a miracle, but just today, you told me to prepare for when the miracle did not come. I love you, Opal Arthure._

Harry flipped to the beginning of the album. There were pictures and sayings, all focused on a baby girl. She giggled and laughed in the photos, for all appearances, just the picture of joy. The pictures continued, following the girl as she grew older. At around seven, or so Harry could decipher from the album, she'd taken ill and the joy faded from her life, and her pictures. The last picture was off the girl and the slightly older boy who'd Harry'd learned was 'nelius Arthure, last descendent of the Arthure line. The only picture following that was a flower covered graveyard that was annotated in Cornelius's strict handwriting:_ We buried Opal today. This book is her life story. I can only weep when I think of how much longer it should have been. To my children or heirs, I hope you learn that life can only last for so long; I ask you to make__ the most of your own life._

Harry stared at that last page, not really seeing it. This overwhelming wealth came from _people_. People exactly like those he'd ignored or shunted or even despised, in previous times and especially in those alternate realities. These were people that loved and suffered and lived and died and they'd be so thankful for his vanquishing of Voldemort, they'd seen him as a worthy heir. To Harry, it was starting to make a little more sense why they'd do so. They'd cared. Had they known of his situation with the Dursleys, they would have jumped to help him.

But they didn't know.

This was their way of helping him. Harry looked down at a fluffy orange teddy bear that lay beside the album. He picked it up. He'd seen it in some of the pictures, especially as Opal got sicker and sicker. Cornelius had written that this was her favorite stuffed animal. He couldn't imagine how hard it had been on Cornelius, losing his sister like that. If he lost Paradise now, before they'd even really gotten to know each other, that would be awful.

Harry thought of David Summerby and his younger brother. He hoped that David wouldn't have to feel the same way Cornelius had. It was in that moment that Harry was grateful for his wealth. He could help people. He _would_ help people.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry arrived at Ursa-upon-Heavens to find Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Poppy Pomfrey (seriously, Harry's exhausted mind wondered, what is up with the alliterated names?) and an exasperated Aurora Sinistra in the living room. Out the window, he could see Paradise playing with Ciara and Tyler in the fading light. A brown-black owl was flying around with them. He dropped his back by the table and stared at the professors. Hedwig perched on a conjured cage in one of the corners of the room, her intelligent amber eyes studying the professors. Harry would ask her later what she'd seen and heard. "Should I head outside?"

Pomfrey looked reluctant, but when the professors shook their heads, she made no comment. Harry joined Aurora on the loveseat. "What's wrong?"

"Ehm," Lupin started, coughing into his hand a little. "We are discussing the perpetrator of the mass memory charm."

The healers at St. Mungo's had said it wasn't one person, Harry thought, but the professors had likely already conferred with his other teachers. One person would have needed to have been fueled by some massive amount of power. He felt Hedwig pressing an affirmative into his mind, though how she'd know, he couldn't understand. She was trying to tell him something, but their communication wasn't yet to the point that— "The healers at St. Mungos were talking about that too."

"How is that class going?" McGonagall asked, curious.

Flitwick mumbled something. Harry assumed it was about how only one Ravenclaw was attending an extra opportunity for learning. "Awesome! We learned about Mind Arts today and what Occlumens are and what Legilimens are and what Empaths are and some other branches of Mental Arts. Katie's got to become a Occlumens, 'cause otherwise she'd overload, so they tested us towards the end of the day to see if we had any natural talent for it."

"And?" McGonagall prompted.

Harry shrugged. "We'll get the results of the test tomorrow. Who do you think is behind the memories? Who could craft such a complete, interlocking worlds for a whole month?"

Pomfrey coughed a little. "I have been in discussion with Healer Mena, trying to discover the nature of the fabrications. There seem to be four or five major groups in the fabrication that interacted with each other almost entirely within their single group. So, all the students that you frequently interacted with were in your group, and what happened within your group was independent, perhaps, from what happened within other groups. Of course, there was plenty of overlap, but so far, that is our best interpretation."

"We will not be punishing anyone for acts committed within the fabrication," McGonagall said, softly. At that, Poppy, Aurora and Filius all scowled or tensed. Remus just shook his head, quiet. "It was, in essence, _false._"

"Albus will need to employ a counselor," Poppy insisted.

Harry suppressed a sigh; they hadn't answered his question and he supposed he really didn't have the right to ask again. He liked all these professors, he really did. Well, Poppy wasn't a professor, but as far as school nurses went, she was pretty amazing. Add Professor Babbling and all of the best Hogwarts professors were in the living room!

"Harry," Remus said, "in answer to your question, logic leads us to assume that whoever conducted this crime was Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, or someone outside of Hogwarts. Some people would instantly try and blame Sirius Black; but he couldn't have – the man couldn't cast a memory charm to save his life."

Harry blinked.

"Now," Remus continued, "the castle wards register no abnormal entrances or exits in recent weeks, but as we can only infer as to the exact time the spell was cast, we do not know for sure. We do not believe that it was a student, as only a few would know the necessary charm and no one would have the power to cast it on such a large scale."

Again, Harry felt his owl press an affirmative thought into his mind. How on _earth?_ He turned to look at Hedwig and their eyes locked. "What _is_ it?" Harry snapped.

His professors looked at least a little startled.

Hedwig hooted, obviously annoyed.

"Do you know who cast the memory charm?"

Affirmative. Another hoot.

"Who was it?"

Derisive glare. The professors just watched with raised eyebrows.

"Right, of course. Was it Professor Snape?"

Negative. No hoot.

"Was it Professor Dumbledore?"

Affirmative. Another hoot.

"How do you know that?"

Hedwig flapped her wings, making judgmental sounding glares. They really couldn't communicate very well.

"Could you tell Kleio or Caradoc?"

Hedwig stopped flapping and _glared._ She launched from her perch and dive-bombed Harry, coming to an abrupt stop on his shoulder. The owl really didn't like the various patroni. Their unsteady connections of communications snapped. Harry sat back, thirsty and even more exhausted than he'd been before. The professors were all staring at them, except for Minerva.

The older woman and stood and moved to the window. She stood with her back to the gathered group. Harry bit his lip. His Head of House looked fragile, even from the back. He looked for someone to explain. His other teachers were either watching Hedwig or, in Filius's case, watching Minerva. The charms professor was sitting next to the loveseat in a conjured chair. "Poor Minerva." That was all he said.

Harry bolted upright. Hedwig squeaked in protest, but found some other place to perch. Before anyone could stop him, Harry had run up to his Head of House and given her a hug. She reacted stiffly at first, as if unsure of herself, but when Harry didn't let go, she hugged him back, shaking slightly with sobs.

Harry had struggled with a lot of revelations that Tuesday. He'd learned quite a few good lessons.

Adults were humans too. He still didn't trust really any adult outside this room, but to see his unbreakable professor look so broken… Harry just poured more energy into his hug.

Minerva pulled back after a while. "Thank you, Harry." She whispered, wiping tears away from her cheeks. The two of them returned to the main cluster of professors and McGonagall sat down. Harry sat down at her feet, as if sensing that she could use the support.

There was a long pause.

"That is an _owl_," Aurora said, staring at the snowy owl. Her words sounded a little choked. "I doubt that that counts as damning evidence."

"Are we trying for a conviction?" Filius asked. "I won't trust the man. I don't trust him, but it would take a lot to bring charges against someone so powerful."

"The one who did this has to be caught," Poppy snarled. "He manufactured a world in which an eleven year old student was raped and no punishment was given! That is unacceptable!"

Aurora winced.

Harry didn't have all the details to follow the conversation, but part of him really didn't want to know. A big part of him wished they would send him out to play with the staff kids. He didn't want all this information hanging over his shoulders. He'd never, ever trust Dumbledore or Snape, but that didn't mean he wanted to blame them for something as illegal as mass memory tampering! Harry tensed as McGonagall started to weave her fingers through his hair, but when he figured out what was happening, he relaxed.

"How… how would people react to knowing it was, if it was, Dumbledore?" Aurora asked.

No one, for a long time, answered. Harry figured he had permission to break the silence. "They'd be shocked. Really, really shocked. It would terrify Hermione. Parents probably wouldn't want their kids to remain at Hogwarts. The scandal would be immense. It would—" _Hedwig,_ Harry asked again, _how do you know?_ His bird closed her eyes and concentrated really, really, really hard. Nothing happened. None of the professors even noticed their continued mental conversation.

"Tear us apart," Remus said, purposely looking in every direction except at Minerva and Harry.

Hedwig fluffed her feathers in frustration and took wing, barreling straight at the still closed window. She grabbed the latch in her claws, unlocked the window, and took in to the sky. "That is an odd bird," Filius said, frowning.

"What are we going to do?" Minerva asked.

"Nothing," Poppy said. "The healers from Mungo's told law enforcement everything they told me, and possibly more. They will arrive to the same conclusion."

"They're going to add another suspect," Remus said, as if he were pointing out an age old fact.

Poppy looked confused.

Remus gave her a half-hearted smile.

Poppy seemed to realize what he meant. Harry had no idea. Poppy screeched, in anger, rage, and frustration. The mediwitch didn't even stay seated, but rather paced around room. She ranted for a good ten minutes, but a minute into it, Filius cast a silencing charm on her. She didn't seem to care much. When Poppy calmed down, Filius ended the charm. "You know what," Poppy said, her voice low and dangerous. "They saw your mind. If they even think about blaming you for this, I will tear the Ministry of Magic a part piece by bigoted piece." By then she was standing in front of Remus. She leaned down, kissed him, pulled away and stomped to the door, obviously still mad. "Tyler! Ciara! Time to go."

Harry stared at his defense professor. He hadn't moved and his eyes were wide like saucers. The two Pomfrey kids hurried inside, and all three Pomfreys flooed away before anyone even reacted to her rant. Paradise was barely in the door when Harry burst into giggles. Minerva and Filius both started laughing with him. Remus still hadn't moved.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Flitwick stayed for dinner only when Harry begged. While Harry couldn't do magic outside of school, Flitwick talked about emotion based charms and what some of the more common ones were. He promised to find Harry a book to study from when he extracted a promise from Harry that the boy wouldn't actually attempt any of the charms without proper supervision. Harry eagerly agreed, hoping he'd have the time to add yet another study item to his list of things to do. Paradise introduced Harry (and Flitwick, but mostly Harry) to her new eagle owl, Taygete.

When Flitwick left and Paradise retired to bed, completely exhausted from having so full a day, Harry and Sinistra went out to the garden and watched the stars come out. Harry loved it. The fields around Ursa-upon-Heavens really did have a great view of the sky. The boy managed to convince his guardian to talk about Poppy, and why she'd kiss Remus like that. Aurora was slightly reluctant, but gave in without too much prompting.

"Madame Pomfrey hasn't had the best of lives, Harry," she said. "She was a Hufflepuff, some two years older than me. And I was two years older than Professor Lupin and your parents. Her mother, another Poppy Pomfrey, was the Hogwarts nurse at the time. But that was just school. About six years ago, she had problems with her husband and divorced him, barely managing to keep Tyler and Ciara under her custody. And I trust that you understand that while these are just general things, they should not be discussed. I can't say what she thinks of Remus; we haven't actually talked about it."

That was all he got on that subject. "But why would law enforcement add Professor Lupin to a list of suspects?" Harry asked.

Aurora closed her eyes, as if fighting with unimaginable levels of tension. "Harry, as much as I love the stars and the moon and the night, keep in mind that a lot of Lunar Magic is truly hurtful." And she didn't deny or confirm anything; she really only hinted at it, but Harry knew. He'd read enough storybooks and fairytales by now that it wouldn't be so impossible to believe that the best defense teacher he'd ever had was a werewolf.

Huh. A real werewolf. That explained the white balloon boggart.

He'd never have guessed that without Aurora's clue, even if she hadn't told him directly.

"Go to bed now, Harry. I trust your discretion."

In Harry's dream that night, Albus Dumbledore played the villain, aided by the constant presence of Ronald Weasley. The moon wove in and out, both helpful and hurting at the same time. It didn't wake him up, but he remembered it as one of the worst dreams yet.


	18. Magic

**A/N: I actually like this chapter. However, given how I'm fighting to breathe some sort of conflict into later chapters, here's my advice: jump ship now. Stop reading this. Never think about this again. This is nothing beyond the pointless, unappetizing scrawl of just another angsty ex-kid with ancient dreams of being thought of a writer. Translating - this is nothing better than everything else on this site.**

Chapter Eighteen

Magic

They arrived at Longbottom Manor around 10am. Neville and Sarah greeted them, and Neville escorted them into an antechamber to wait for the Vanes and Hermione. Aurora left to go get Hermione. Neville's Gran – Augusta Longbottom – watched over them. She reminded Harry of Professor McGonagall when the teacher was irate about something.

"Harry," Sarah said, "my parents have requested that I request an audience with you, probably sometime over Christmas vacation. They want to talk about your offer."

"Okay," Harry said.

Paradise looked curious, but she didn't inquire what offer Sarah was talking about. Neville knew already. In short order, Able and Romilda flooed into the entrance room and Neville ran out to bring them into the antechamber. They chatted for a few minutes, before Neville ran out again and came back with a glowing, happy Hermione. Aurora hadn't come in with her, saying she'd be going over back to Hogwarts to attend to a few things. That left the whole group there, with just Augusta Longbottom. The matron of the Longbottom house greeted Hermione, very formally, before addressing the whole group. "I will not provide constant supervision for you, only know that myself or the house elves will be watching from afar in case you decide to act on any nefarious plots." Paradise blinked, obviously not understanding. "Do you have a specific plan for today, Heir Longbottom?"

"No, Madam," Neville said. "I wished to ask my friends before deciding. Although, I did plan on first showing Romilda and Paradise to the dollhouse and letting them play there." Romilda and Paradise looked a little confused. But at Mrs. Longbottom's nod, Neville led his group of friends out of the antechamber, through a hallway and up three flights of stairs. The Longbottoms came from old money. They were no longer technically rich, but the imperishable goods of their manor would not be soon forgotten. On the third floor, Neville led them down a few more corridors before he paused to open a door.

Paradise, Romilda, Sarah, and even Hermione, stared at the room, cooing. The whole room was a dollhouse. And the dollhouse was huge! The dolls were probably only about half a foot high, so they seemed rather out of place in the ginormous house, but the spell work on the little dolls was incredible. They looked _alive._ "The dolls speak," Neville said, a grin on his face as he pushed Paradise and Romilda into the room, "and there's eleven of them. I guarantee you won't get to meet all eleven. Have fun, and don't worry about calling for a house elf if you need anything."

The two little girls darted into the dollhouse and Neville closed the door behind them. "That looks so cool," Hermione said, "the spell work—"

"Want to join them?" Able asked, nudging Hermione with his shoulder. "I'm sure you must miss playing with dolls."

"Shut up or I'll smack you," Hermione challenged, but she was grinning.

"Come on," Neville said, "I want to show you guys the greenhouse!" The five friends headed off, bounding through the hallways, talking and laughing. Harry knew they weren't ready for a heavy discussion yet; it would probably take so much time for Neville to forgive how his now best friend had treated him in the fabricated world. It would take Harry forever to forget. They made a good group of friends. Able and Neville had accepted him seamlessly; the three of them made a better, more solid trio than he, Hermione and Ron could ever have. Sarah and Hermione were great friends. Harry and Hermione were great friends. Harry and Sarah had a strong friendship. Sarah nearly worshiped Able, but only so far as he'd been teaching her some really cool charms for art. Hermione and Neville were quickly forming a symbiotic relationship: homework help in their respective strong subjects in exchange for mutual support in social activities that they both found so hard. Harry loved these friendship dynamics.

Neville's greenhouse was extraordinary! Sarah was instantly a goner. She wandered through the blossoming plants, a muggle pencil rolling from one hand to another, her eyes trying to take in everything and file it away for later. Hermione followed Sarah's lackadaisical path through the greenhouse, determined to keep the girl from touching any dangerous plants.

That left the boys together. "Are you guys," Harry started, the stopped, wondering if it was okay to bring up this topic. They didn't really talk about feelings that much. "Okay and all?"

Neville looked down.

"In truth?" Able muttered. He leaned against a table and looked down at his younger friends. "Part of me is glad it happened. In the reality, I just ignored my sister; I didn't have any relationship with her at all. In the made up world, I treated her horribly. Now, I feel like I've been given a second chance to have a positive relationship with Romilda. But— yeah, I missed being friends with Neville and you and the play. And, I don't know, but the past real month, Gryffindor felt more like a family too me. I want that to continue."

Neville mumbled some sort of agreement. Harry didn't say anything. After a while, Neville stopped kicking at the greenhouse dirt and looked up at his friends. "It hurts, you know. Mentally, I know it's all lies, just a demented dream, but it still _hurts_ what I remember about the past month. Especially how Ron behaved… and… I don't know. I can't help but feel betrayed. Again."

Harry knew exactly what he was talking about. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Nev."

The Longbottom's face snapped to Harry's, his bright eyes searching for some further affirmation of what he'd just said. "Oh."

"I won't voluntarily betray you, Neville," Harry promised, fiddling with the hem of his nice shirt. "Ever. Paradise says I'm too much of a Hufflepuff now. I think loyalty definitely has its benefits."

Neville grinned.

"Ehm," Able muttered, "I'm a little confused."

Neville and Harry looked at each other and laughed, and then Harry explained everything that happened that fateful night first year. That had been before he started to trust Professor Sinistra. That night, he'd been oh so foolish. But, by the time he finished relating his tale, Neville and Able were _both_ gaping at him.

"But… but…" Able stuttered. "I heard the rumors and everything, but, eh. _Really?!_ Fred and George couldn't have thought up that story if they _tried!_"

Harry laughed again. "Yeah, it was pretty spectacular."

"What about last year?" Neville prompted, "What really happened then?"

Harry stopped laughing. He kicked the ground a little, not wanting to think about that. "It… Well." Sarah and Hermione came over. They didn't say anything, almost instantly catching hold of how uncomfortable and out of place Harry felt.

Neville looked sheepish. "I'm sorry, Harry, you don't-"

"I should," Harry said. "I was so scared," he admitted, to his closest friends. "That year sucked. Classes sucked. I missed you, Hermione, more than I think I could handle. The nightmares-" Neville winced here "—weren't as bad as they could have been, but I didn't want to sleep. I heard voices in the wall, voices no one could hear. The school _hated_ me. And I didn't have Hermione for support. I started walking around the castle at night, just trying to get away from it. That was foolish. But, Aurora caught me one night, and promised not to get me in trouble if I told her what was wrong.

"She helped," Harry said, "we spent a lot of time talking over the following weeks. Astronomy had been one of my favorite classes before; talking with her just, eh, I started doing really well. And then… and then Ron and I stumbled upon _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever._ Then we overheard the professors saying it was Ginny. The two of us had figured out from Hagrid that a girl had died and that she'd never really left, so we went to Myrtle and confirmed that her bathroom was an opening to the Chamber of Secrets. Ron wanted to go rescue his sister. I convinced him to go tell Aurora. Aurora listened to us. She _believed._ She tried to convince the other teachers, but was taking too long. Dumbledore just dismissed her out of hand." Here, Harry simpered, moodily. He was still mad at Dumbledore for that. "He'd come back to the school when Ginny when taken, and he refused to help personally!

"So Ron and I went the Chamber. I ordered it open, with parseltongue, you know. And, it was horrifying. I was so scared. Ron miscast a spell, you remember how messed up his wand was? He caused a cave in. I was on one side, him on another. I went on. Ron stayed. It was… all I could think about was saving Ginny. I didn't even think about how big the basilisk was, or how, how," he struggled to find the right words. "She wouldn't wake!" He was near tears now. "I couldn't wake her up. And then Tom Riddle, the guy who'd been possessing her… Tom Marvolo Riddle. _Tom Marvolo Riddle!_" Harry shrieked. "He summoned the basilisk. Fawkes and the Sorting Hat showed up. Without them, Ginny and I'd both be dead." His friends stared, not interrupting.

"The Hat gave me the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. Fawkes plucked out the basilisk's eyes. I stabbed it in the mouth. A fang went through my arm." Hermione gasped, her hands involuntarily coming to her cover her mouth. "But Riddle had pretty much done it. He'd stolen almost all of Ginny's life force. She was going to…" Harry choked, unable to say it. "The basilisk was dead. Ginny was almost dead. The poison nearly killed me. I took the fang, and I stabbed the diary. I don't know why I did it. But I stabbed the diary. It killed Tom Marvolo Riddle." Harry said the name with calculating slowness. He despised that name. "And Ginny woke up. She lived. And then Fawkes healed me. And then we made it out of the chamber."

Harry scratched Tom Marvolo Riddle into the dirt of the greenhouse. Hermione cocked her head, staring at the letters with a contemplative expression. "Fawkes flew all three of us out of the chamber. Dumbledore was there. Aurora was _livid._" Harry continued. "And Ginny… she was just so quiet and pale and… in the fabricated memory, she was just fine, showing no after effect. Neither was I. How could either of us forget that horror? How… She hates me," Harry said, not really keeping the train of his thoughts in order. "I don't either of us really have a chance with dealing with those memories. I saw a boy… not much older than Kenneth… implode. _Tom Marvolo Riddle!_"

"Harry," Hermione was the first to interrupt. "What's the importance of the name?"

Harry swallowed. "It's an anagram."

Hermione inhaled, the breath hissing through her throat. "Voldemort is in there. And… and Lord. And M-A-I."

Sarah and Able looked scared of their minds, not use to dealing with such horrific things, at all. Neither of them had been with him the first year. Neither of them were Neville, who at least had an inkling of what life for Harry was like. Neville understood the nightmares. Harry just hoped this wouldn't scare Sarah and Able away.

With his foot, Harry scratched the other version of the anagram into the dirt. "I am Lord Voldemort." Hermione stared at it, shaking a little.

"Harry," that was Neville, "his name is… _Riddle?_ That's not… what house is that? What—" He was nearly panicky.

"I looked it up," Harry said, "In the Hogwarts registry. Riddle was… was, I think a halfblood. Slytherin. That's what he was registered as. A halfblood. I looked for Marvolo too. I couldn't find it," the kid said, close to miserably. "Why can't Voldemort just leave me alone? Why can't Black and every one of these villains just leave me alone?"

It was Sarah who dared answer. "Because you're extraordinary, Harry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because you care. Because you're generous. Because you're _good._ They can't stand that. But you're stronger than them! You've beaten the unbeatable foes. You've got friends. Merlin, I bet all of Hogwarts would stand with you now! You're not alone in this Harry." She threw herself at him, wrapping her small arms around his neck, clinging to him like her life depending on it. Harry hugging her back. He buried his nose in her brown hair and eagerly accepted the comfort she providing.

The healing had begun. The cure had been administered. Harry Potter was quickly on the path to emotional health. And so were his friends. They would heal together. They would thrive together. Neville Longbottom journeyed the farthest.

"You all know I live with my Gran," Neville said, when Sarah and Harry relaxed their hug, "and I guess you guys should know… My mum and dad are in a permanent ward at St. Mungo's, being treated for insanity caused by long-term exposer to the Cruciatus Curse." He said it all in a rush. "And, they don't even know me, anymore. They've never known me. Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Junior did it, right after the fall of Voldemort. And… yeah."

Hermione hugged him. He hugged her back. They _would_ thrive. The five of them would succeed.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Vince replayed the conversation he'd had with Mena as he looked down at the third year in front of him. They'd each gotten one of the students to discuss the results of the previous days test with so that such things would stay private. And Harry, Harry's tests provided some anomalous readings. "Harry," Vince said, steeling himself for what was bound to be a harsh conversation, "I, uh, don't really know how to explain this, but according to our tests, you should not be able to perform magic."

Harry stared. "But I _can_." He'd read enough books on magical theory to have a general idea of how magic worked. And he had a niggling little feeling that what followed was going to mess with his head a lot.

"I know," Vince said. "And magic tests can be inconclusive." That was a lie. Vince knew that. But Harry didn't know that. Thankfully, oh so thankfully, Harry didn't know that. "So, we decided we'd ask if we could take a more physical test of your abilities, just to see what you're capable of. Is that okay with you?"

Harry nodded.

"Let's do this, then," Vince said. "Please do not be discouraged if none of these tests work. They are a baseline, only. You've discussed the application and use of Occlumency, I believe. Please try and shield your mind from my probe." Harry looked uncertain, but as he nodded, a willing determination crept into his eyes. Vince whispered a _legilimens_ and sought to break into Harry's mind. He couldn't. The boy was fortified beyond believe but… Wait… Vince stared at the walls in Harry's mind. A growing anxiety settled in his stomach. That couldn't be… That was… Harry was not using walls of his own. Harry was using _Vince's_ walls to keep the Legilimens out of his mind! That shouldn't be possible! Vince retracted the spell.

Harry blinked at him. "I didn't feel anything, sir."

Vince swallowed. "We can discuss things after the test, Harry. Now, are you familiar with the concept of metamorphmagi?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Ruth Turpin's one. She can change her features and whatever to be whatever she wants."

"Try to do so yourself," Vince said, quietly.

"But I don't know…"

"Try."

Harry tried. Harry failed. The same could be said for an attempt at the animagus transformation, instinctual healing, instinctual warding and cursebreaking, self-guided mage sight, silent casting, wandless casting, empathy, beastspeak, eidetic memorization, ritualistic magic, and all other types of magic that Vince knew that he himself was not capable of doing. In two hours' time, Harry was exhausted and frustrated. He'd tried and tried and tried and he failed each and every time. The only one he had any marginal success with was empathy, and even that… Vince couldn't register much of a talent in that area of magic.

"Harry—"

"What now?" The kid snapped, obviously incredibly frustrated with his last failure.

Vince cast a whispered spell that flicked open the door. A young woman stood by the threshold, hoping from foot to foot. "You have met her," Vince said, "Auror Trainee Tonks. She trains a metamorphmagus student at Hogwarts." Harry just stood there, past the point of caring.

Tonks bounced cheerfully into the room. "Wotcher Harry."

"Try the metamorphmagus transformation once again," Vince instructed.

The fifth year glared at the healer, obviously not eager to fail at something he'd already attempted. Harry went cross-eyed, trying to remember if he'd ever overheard Ruth saying anything of value about transformations… Nope. Nada. He sort of remembered regrowing his hair after Petunia cut it once, but he did that unconsciously. Harry concentrated on a magical prickle in his scalp. He _forced_ his hair to change. And it changed. How was… how was… Both Vince and Tonks looked at him, obviously curious. Harry looked back at them. "But, how? I couldn't _do_ that earlier."

"Try a wandless spell now." Vince had gone to school with Tonks, both Hufflepuffs, him two years older. They kept in touch. He knew her talents.

Harry put down his wand and cast a wandless _lumos_ charm. It worked.

"Tonks," Vince ordered, "leave."

She left. Vince had him try again. Harry could access the prickly feeling in his scalp, but he couldn't force his hair to change, or his ears to grow, or _anything._ He tried the spell again. It didn't work. Why wouldn't it _work?!_

Vince leaned against the wall of the room, watching the conundrum in front of him. Harry obviously had power. He knew the kid could cast, not only a patronus, but _multiple_ patroni, and that alone made him a thing for the record book. But to be able to do that when magical scans said he possessed no knowledge! It was… dozens of theories whirled through Vince's head as to how it was even possible for Harry to, in essence, _steal_ magic from others. The low-levels of empathy might have come from him hanging out with Katie Bell enough for the powers to seep into him. And… and… the emotion based magic? He hadn't tested the kid on that, operating under the assumption that Harry could _do_ that, at least, would have been able to do with the proper instruction. But… It made no sense!

Healer Mena entered the room, not bothering to knock. "Well, Healer Kensington, how's it going?"

He didn't respond to her. "Harry, we're going to do the instinctual healing thing again." He cast an underpowered cutting spell at his hand, purposefully missing any major weak areas. Harry moved forward, put his hand on the healer's cut, and _willed_ it shut. It didn't work very well, but there was a noticeable decrease in the size of the cut. Before, he couldn't even make a difference! Mena raised a highly stenciled eyebrow. Vince cast a healing spell at his hand, sealing the cut and keeping it from scarring. "It's… odd," Vince said, looking down at the little boy. "He's not using his own magic. He's using… other people, or something along those lines."

Harry blinked.

Mena blinked.

Vince paced. "I can't explain it! He can do emotion based magic, and that would normally show up on the scans, right? He can't do anything that normally comes up. Anything! But then pull a metamorphmagus who just happens to be capable of wandless casting and boom! He can change his hair and he casts a wandless lighting charm. Healer Mena, it doesn't make sense!"

Mena blinked.

Harry blinked.

"And the empathy thing!" Vince continued pacing. "I could hypothesize that it came from exposure to Katie Bell's talent, but why not gain low-level metamorphmagus activity from being around Miss Turpin? It could be time activated, I suppose, and Miss Bell has played a larger role in Harry's life than Miss Turpin-"

"If that is the thinking," Mena said, factually, "he should have picked up Miss Granger's minor eidetic abilities. Her gift may be too miniscule for Mr. Potter to pick up on."

"Argh!" Vince growled, still pacing. "It could be that empathy is usually considered an unconscious art and metamorphmagus is a conscious art that can be mastered to the point of unconscious ability! As for the eidetic, how minor was it? Bell is strong. Turpin is strong. Those are the only examples that… no… Weasley. The eldest one, what's his name. He went into cursebreaking. And, this doesn't make sense!"

Harry bit his lip, trying not to be terrified about how Mena and Kensington were theorizing about his magic. "I haven't spent much time around Bill."

Vince stopped pacing and ran a hand through his hair. "How do we test this? Does he take lessons with Tonks and Miss Turpin to see if, after he's spent more time exposed to metamorphmagi, can he master the skill without them present?"

"That has the variable of two versus one," Mena pointed out. "He may want to take lessons with either Miss Turpin or Miss Tonks, and that would provide more conclusive data."

"Um," Harry managed, "what are we talking about?"

"Mastering magic," Mena said, stoically. "Making it _yours_. If you truly steal – that is a negative word, let us use _learn_ – instinctual, innate magic from other people with the ability, than you could become a wizard like no other!"

Harry shifted. Nervously. For most of his life, all of his life even, he'd just wanted to be _normal._ But still, being a metamorphmagus sounded so cool. And instinctual healing would be really beneficial. And the ability to see magic. And the animagus ability?

"Oh…" Vince said, blinking. "Professor McGonagall is an animagus. That ruins the exposure by time…"

"Again," Mena said, "that is a more conscious art. Mr. Potter may need to actively try and learn something of that nature." Both of the healers looked at the young boy. It was Mena who muttered, "So, Mr. Potter, what do you think?"

"I want to do it," Harry said, confidently now. "I think it could just be a wild theory, but I'm not a healer. You're the experts! I want it to work."

_Magic.__ Wonderful, glorious magic._

But Mena wasn't done. She called Tonks back into the room and asked Harry what his least favorite animal was. "Pigs and spiders." Dudley and Aragog. Perfectly reasonable. Mena transfigured a quill into a small spider and put it, immobile, on the floor. Harry stared at the spider, completely unsure of what she wanted him to do.

"Healer Kensington told you that while you are in this class, you are exempt from underage magic laws if a purpose for casting said magic can be justified?" At Harry's nod, Mena continued, "In the same manner, you cannot be persecuted for the spell I am about to ask you to cast. Right, Auror Trainee Tonks?" It was a grim nod that came from Tonks, but a nod all the less. Neither she nor Vince seemed to have an idea what Mena was going to ask of him. "Harry," Mena said, slowly, "are you familiar with the Unforgivable Curses?" Tonks' eyes narrowed. Kensington cursed. Harry just nodded. It was all in the storybooks, at least at first. Then he'd verified it with Emma and Hermione. "Do you know the incantation for the Cruciatus Curse?" Harry nodded. Both Tonks and Kensington cursed and Vince made a move to interrupt, but Mena held up a hand and he stopped. "Remember, that spider there is not alive. It's just transfigured. Please cast the Cruciatus Curse on the spider."

Harry's hand slicked with sweat. He didn't want to do it. _Neville… _But… the boy drew a hissed breath in through his teeth. He changed his grip on his wand and pointed it down at the little spider. "_Crucio._" He couldn't bring himself to say the word loudly, or even with much force, but… His scar hurt. The skin around it seemed to burn, but it wasn't really, it was just in his head. His scar hurt. The spider screamed. Where the screams just in his hand? Harry's wand clattered out of his hand, hitting the ground with a decisive thud. In a few seconds, Harry had regained control of his thoughts and feelings and was cognate enough to look up at the three adults.

"He didn't _mean_ it," Tonks whispered. She sounded horrified. Harry quivered. "He didn't mean it and it still worked!"

On the floor was a limp, used up quill.

Healer Mena pursed her lips. "I believe we may need to perform more tests on your scar, in specific, Mr. Potter. It fits our theory that he can cast such magic because of exposure to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That connection is likely your scar." Tonks and Vince winced, both utterly terrified now. Harry bent and picked up his wand. His stomach twisted in revulsion, but he couldn't honestly say that he was surprised. It was just life now, nowadays. Nothing new could surprise him. He wouldn't be surprised… Harry started to shake.

_Magic. __Horrible, deadly magic._


	19. Owl Politics

Chapter Nineteen

Owl Politics

They took Harry home, even if there was nearly half the class period remaining. Both Vince and Tonks accompanied him; Tonks citing that she was law enforcement and had a duty to make sure he got home safe, and Vince said he needed to inform his guardian… Yeah. That. Harry really didn't want to… Harry didn't want to talk with Aurora about that. He figured Vince could do it, and maybe Tonks would help him and they'd let him just curl up with Tolkien and forget that that morning even happened. He kept hearing the spider's scream repeated over and over in his head.

He didn't want to go back to Neville's, even if that was what they had expected would happen. Aurora was there, talking with Madam Pomfrey. They'd asked what was wrong, but all Harry could manage was a shrug of the shoulders as he plodded into his room, found _The Two Towers_ in his trunk, and started reading the long, drawn out portions about Frodo and Sam. The story and the characters were fabulous, Harry knew, but sometimes, all the words he had to wade through to get to that awesomeness really sucked. As he read, he could hear the four adults talking. At some point, Madam Pomfrey came in, checked his temperature, and made sure he was physically doing okay, before returning to the group. When she left, Harry couldn't focus on the reading anymore.

He laid it on his bedside table and curled up against his pillows. Hedwig and Paradise's new owl, Taygete, sat primly on their respective perches. _'Hi, Hedwig,'_ Harry thought, wondering if they'd ever progress to the point of communicating in actual words. So far, they hadn't. All he received from Hedwig was an affectionate greeting and an expression of minor annoyance at her new owl companion. Harry got the distinction impression that Hedwig did not like Taygete. But then she somehow conveyed a sense of usefulness that Harry didn't understand. What use could Hedwig have for another owl? The response came quickly enough, in a series of thoughts and images and vagueness: _politics._ Harry blinked. Owls had _politics?!_

Hedwig watched her young human. He was exhausted, troubled, and fearful. She hoped he did not retreat into his old, moody self. She didn't like that self so much. Still, she was grateful to have her human back and not that… that emptiness. And the thoughts she'd sent him were mostly right. She didn't particularly like her new nest-sister. Taygete was not too bright (by Hedwig's standards at least), but she was big, loyal, fierce, and would be a sought after mate. There were only two eagle owls in the owlery at the moment, both males. They'd likely fight over Taygete. That would just cause more problems. There had been a third eagle owl, but she left. Which was odd, Hedwig mused to herself. If she could push Tay towards Abraxas, who was the stronger of the two eagle owls, she would gain an ally in Abraxas. Tay, as her nest-sister who knew that Hedwig was phoenix touched and who knew that Hedwig had been familiarly bonded, would likely never betray that trust. And if she could manipulate Tay to get Abraxas on her side, there would be no challenger that could defeat her. Hedwig cooed, softly, imaging the owlery with Tay and Abraxas to do the fighting, herself to do the thinking, and Jasper, Maximilian and CiCi in the background. That was perfect contentment.

Jasper, Maximilian and CiCi were good companions. Friends, even. They had rallied behind Hedwig even before Fawkes had chosen her. They kept Hermes in his place, and some of the other more troublesome screeches – why were the troublesome owls always screeches? Hedwig listened to Tay hoot at her, and decided to be at least friendly to the larger owl. They held a short, hooted conversation before Harry grew tired of the noise and mentally threatened to throw his shoe at either of the two owls. It made Hedwig chuckle. Tay didn't understand. Tay, Hedwig considered, was a good name. Maybe she could convince herself to like Taygete. Tay. Whatever.

She got a twisted thought from Harry: _stop plotting!_ It seemed oddly appropriate.

o.o.o.o.o.o

He was reluctant to go back to the class on Friday, but a contemplative Aurora supported returning, and so Harry went. He still participated, but none of the healers seemed to expect him to perform at the same level as the other six students. The other students all noticed something was wrong with Harry. Katie was the only one brave enough to ask what. Harry had avoided that question. The Saturday class progressed in much the same manner, but Harry participated a lot more, having talked with nearly all his favorite professors who were unaware of Thursday's circumstances and gotten different points of view on how he acted and how Healer Mena acted. Flitwick and Lupin both vocally blamed Mena for asking Harry to cast an Unforgiveable. Both of them promised that even if he was connected to Voldemort, he wouldn't change. He'd still be Harry.

There weren't really any students left at Hogwarts outside of the first generation staff kids. Not counting the staff kids, two Gryffindors, three Hufflepuffs, and two Ravenclaws stayed. Vicky Frobisher seemed especially glad for Paradise to return on Saturday. When Harry asked, Vicky stuttered some false reasoning for why she stayed before changing the subject. All of the Towlers remained. Harry shared Saturday supper with Kenneth, his twin Kaitlin, and their older sister Katherine (a sixth year Ravenclaw). Harry kept mixing Kaitlin and Katherine up. He didn't know and didn't bother to meet the three other students who had stayed at Hogwarts. What with Harry, Paradise, Vicky, Kenneth, Kaitlin, Katherine, Ciara, Tyler, Rebecca, Orion, Leann, Steven, and the three other students… well… it still seemed exceptionally empty of a castle that weekend.

On Sunday, Harry managed to wheedle permission to bring Ciara, Tyler and Becks into the Gryffindor common room. That implied officially confirming the existence of staff kids to people outside the Concordia, but Steven and the professors ruled that it was okay. Orion, Leann, Kaitlin and one of the remaining Hufflepuffs (a first year) were invited (Harry had decided to invite everyone under fifth year), but only the Hufflepuffs came. Samuel Branstone was tentative, at first, but by the time the day was over, he and Tyler were quickly on their way to becoming fast friends. It was a fun group. Kaitlin and Samuel taught everyone some good 'get to know you' games. Late Sunday afternoon, they said farewell to the staff kids and traipsed down to the Great Hall for dinner with the returning students. The Hogwarts Express had run that day; they hadn't needed to be on it.

Early on in the dinner, Harry noticed a distinctive somberness in the attitudes of people. People he remembered being friends were avoiding each other. People who hated each other seemed to be grappling with mixed emotions. It was all wrong. They'd just lived two strange, completely different months and trying to cope over one week just wasn't good enough. Harry looked up and down the table before finally finding Katie. His friend looked exhausted. Like, _exhausted._ Was she just starting to pick up on the emotions running through the Great Hall? Was she having further trouble coping with that piled on top of her senses? Queenie, Alicia and Angelina flanked their friends, keeping a fairly wide margin between themselves and anyone else. Still, the Hall buzzed with people and thoughts and emotions. Katie would have a rough time of it until she mastered controlling things…

Harry stared around the Hall again. Everyone sat at their respective tables. It wasn't normal! Sure, there was an over-exaggerated amount of house loyalty, but there was always at least some house mixing. Harry looked at his friends. "We've got to mingle."

"What?" That was Hermione. And Neville. They despised most any form of mingling.

"We've just lived two different realities," Harry explained, in a hushed whisper. "I bet some people are still questioning what they believe and what they want to believe. This is the perfect time to promote interhouse unity!"

"Harry—"

"Let's do it," Able interrupted Hermione's question. "Let's…"

To alleviate Hermione's and Neville's uncertainties, Harry shrugged. "Look, Hermione. It'll be easy. Look at the Ravenclaw table and how Su is sitting with Michael, Terry and Mandy? You and Neville go sit with them. Able—"

"I'll find someone at Hufflepuff."

"Right," Harry said, quietly. "Sarah can come with me."

It was an unfortunate group of second years that was sitting close enough to Harry for him to rope them into his plans. But still, Ritchie, Harry and Andy didn't seem to mind being ordered to go find friends. The word was passed up and down the Gryffindor table. Mingle. Intermix. Be the good guys. Confident that his meme had penetrated much of the Gryffindor population, Harry got up from the table and headed for the Slytherin table. Sarah followed him, somewhat noticeably reluctant. He sat down across from Julius Vaisey, Selene Grant, Theodore Nott (who he remembered again), and near people he sort of recognized but didn't really know.

Selene ignored him. Julius and Theo muttered a terse greeting. Harry really, really wanted to run away. But he wouldn't do that. He couldn't do that. _Set the example. Give of oneself…_ "I'm actually kind of glad we've got regular classes tomorrow," Harry said, picking up a roll from a platter and munching on it, trying to behave unconcerned. "I've missed DADA."

Julius smirked at Harry, but he seemed to be the only one aware of the St. Mungo's class. "It's been really good this year," Theo said, completely missing Julius's smirk. "Professor Lupin _is_ an accomplished teacher." Theo munched thoughtfully on a bread roll. "Did he truly teach you to cast a post-NEWT level emotion-based charm?"

"Yes," Sarah said, still rather timidly. "The Patronus Charm. It's genius."

Harry disliked the expressions of astonishment, curiosity and awe. He wished they just ignore him. He did, however, take such comments in stride. The conversation lagged, giving Harry enough time to see that the Gryffindor table and been vacated, almost entirely. It was actually interesting, Harry realized. Most of the Gyffindors were approaching friends in other houses, sitting down, and starting conversations. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws started mingling, mixing together or even approaching the Slytherins. The whole school couldn't fit on three large tables, so the mixed groups spilled over and spread out. Even Slytherins ended up at all three of the other tables. It was pretty awesome, Harry decided, to see how united the school could become when you eliminated the rivalry. _Eliminating the rivalry…_ No! Harry snapped at himself. He had too much to handle as it was. He wouldn't even think about even thinking about trying to eliminate the House Cup and changing how Quidditch was played… Yeah. That deserved utterly no thought. Harry turned back to the people around him and dove back into the conversation.

No one noticed a slight increase in the twinkling of Albus Dumbledore's eyes. He twinkled when he was mad. This was most assuredly not supposed to happen! The charm was supposed to stick! How deluded had he been, to even consider the possibility that this would _work?!_ Less than a day. The ignorant masses of St. Mungo's had expelled his charm in _less than__ a day!_ And to cap it all off, the heart of Hogwarts refused to respond to him! It was if the castle's light had just packed up and decided to leave, right then. And Fawkes was being all temperamental again. He'd had a burning day in the past year! It should have been for another twenty years before he was this temperamental again. And… and… he was pretty sure many of his professors had starting conspiring against each him. The McGonagalls had been downright standoffish last time he spoke to Cormack and Minerva at the same time. And… and… Harry Potter, of all people, had started a mass migration among the houses. And the rest of his staff looked please about that! That was wrong! Only Snape looked even mildly concerned about his house's apparent mingling freedom.

At least, Dumbledore took comfort in the thought; they hadn't linked him to the "crime" of trying to protect the future by changing a few bits and pieces of peoples' reality. Memories were a fickle thing. Dumbledore had studied them extensively. He'd read a book once, talking about the seven sins of memory: absent-mindedness, transience, blocking, misattribution, suggestibility, bias, and persistence. Or some such nonsense. The author had no knowledge of memory charms or occlumency, or any of the Mind Arts, so his theories were bound to be very false, but there was merit to his philosophy. Dumbledore had tried to capture the three distortion effects – misattribution, suggestibility, and bias – in his mass memory charm, but it obviously hadn't work. He now how to figure out how to make this whole memory charm business play into his favor, but… He should order the students to return to their respective house tables. Except, if he did that, Minerva would kill him. And she wouldn't do it quickly. When had she become such a large proponent of interhouse cooperation? This was all wrong!

o.o.o.o.o.o

Tuesday morning, Harry purposefully woke himself earlier than he'd have liked. Yesterday had been exhausting. Ron had screamed at him during breakfast. Emma and Percy had a shouting match in the common room just before dinner. Every single new friend he had made during his third year had sought him out to verify that they could still be friends, no matter what the fabricated memories said. But now… Harry plodded out of the common room and wound his way through the empty hallways to one of the Transfiguration classrooms. Mena and Vince had decided it would be best if he trained one on one with Tonks, and not simply join into Tonks and Ruth's training. The auror had been slightly reluctant until Harry offered pay generously. Then she stammered and refused to take no more pay than what the Turpins were giving her (which wasn't a lot).

The young auror was buried in a textbook when he arrived at the classroom. She lay on top of three pushed together desks, her book prompted up in front of her nose as her eyes frantically scanned the text. "Aurors take tests?" Harry asked, because he'd only ever seen seventh and fifth years look as horrified as she did.

"Just the trainees," Tonks grumbled. "And just the ones who can't do a specific thing. Anyone who can cast a patronus gets out of this test; they take it, still, just to show the trainers were they are. But I _bloody well can't cast a patronus_ so this test counts for me!"

Harry shrugged. "How much work have you put into the patronus charm?"

She looked down at him and slowly closed the textbook. "Not a lot, actually. It's hard to find time, between the actual academy and working to pay for the academy. What, does the Boy-Who-Lived have some fantastic tip to casting such a difficult charm?"

"Don't call me that," Harry snapped. "And I wouldn't know, I've never had problems casting it."

One of Tonks' bangs flipped momentarily red. She stamped down that color and changed it back to the matching forest green of the rest of her hair. "It's just a stupid charm!" She complained, frustrated. The trainee grabbed her wand and screeched _expecto patronum_. Nothing happened. Harry, who wasn't really sure how this training session was supposed to go, told her to calm down and focus more. That didn't help. In the hour that Tonks requested to meet with him, they didn't really work on metamorphing. Instead, Harry just stared down the much older girl and somehow managed to teach her how to cast a corporal patronus. Hers was a chameleon. She'd had a good basis for the theory of the charm, but struggled to calm down enough to actually focus on a memory. Near six-thirty, Tonks startled at the time and just started blinking very, very fast. She'd just managed to cast the patronus and it dawned on her that she was supposed to be teaching Harry, not the other way around.

He successfully used some metamorphing ability to hide embarrassment at her stammered apologizes. But, of course, she noticed that and grinned. She left the room, and Harry lost the ability to morph. Tonks popped back in, confirmed that progress, and said she had to leave. With thanks and a whirl, the odd auror trainee disappeared. Harry headed back for the common room. It was fairly full; all four of his closest friends were already up. Which wasn't abnormally, seeing as lunch started at seven-thirty. They were at a table. Neville and Able were finishing up what looked like homework and Hermione reading ahead in one of her classes. Sarah was sketching. Harry plopped down in an empty chair next to them and pulled out his current non-Tolkien (Aurora had made him promise not to read too much Tolkien in a day) novel: a very battered copy of _Journey to the Center of the Earth_ by Jules Verne. Patricia hadn't recommended it, but it was in the library and looked interesting enough… It was rather dull, in all honesty.

Patricia was already awake as well, sitting in her usual corner buried under a book. As usual. Ginny Weasley sat in the chair next to her, nose buried in a book. Not so usual. Well, no matter. If Patricia wanted to take Ginny under her wing, Harry wasn't about to complain about it. It would probably be good for both of them. Sarah handed Harry a couple pieces of artwork for him to look at. A few were of Neville's greenhouse, but most of them seemed to focus on the Great Hall while the Mind Healers were repairing people's memories. The only one with color had the red, orange and yellow scribbles that she'd started while in the Hall. The pictures were scary, but rather accurate representations of very real events. Even more drawings Sarah handed him were from the skit they were putting together. Able and Hermione had agreed to help with the stage magic, and with Harry narrating and Neville and Sarah doing the scene work, all five of them were involved in their scene for the talent show. Angelina had decided to push forward with the talent show around Halloween, so there really was only two weeks until the show.

At breakfast, the remaining third year Hufflepuff girls had joined them at the Gryffindor table with the news that Sally-Anne would be returning to Hogwarts the following day. Able left to talk with Eddie Carmichael about the Thursday "Carmichael Team" meeting, with promises to Harry that he'd relay the necessary information. Neville got drawn in as a mediator between Andy, Geo, and Ritchie and Harry Bellwood, Ogden, and Jack. Su Li joined Hermione for breakfast, and Tracey and Millicent from Slytherin joined them all. The twins stopped by briefly to heckle Harry about having so many girlfriends, but Sarah, Hermione, Megan and Millicent had endlessly poked them until they went away. That left Harry, Susan, Hannah, Tracey and Su in hysterics. That was also the breakfast that Harry learned that Su spoke Chinese. He started begging her to hold conversations with him.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was spectacular that day. Lupin had pushed all the chairs and desks away, conjured a lush carpet and instructed everyone to sit down in a circle. They had a mediated discussion about learning how to handle vulnerabilities (a raw subject) and what the students wanted to learn over the course of the year. Most of the students now had a heightened awareness of the need for Defense, and when Hermione mentioned shield charms, both Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs seemed excited about learning shielding methods. So for the rest of the class, that's what they did. Harry and Neville walked with Wayne and Megan to their Runes class, like every Tuesday in the real world. Runes was fun; Professor Babbling facilitated competition in which everyone paired off and fought to be the quickest to get a word from a certain clue. He called it a version Jeopardy! Harry didn't know what it was. He and Tracey won.

Double Transfiguration followed, and Harry had some problems with the spell they were working on. Hermione mastered it the first attempt and spent the rest of the period helping Neville and Lavender, who were struggling. Harry and Pavarti managed it before the end of the first class period, and Seamus and Dean were close. Ron just _failed._ Harry really didn't pay much attention to how the Slytherins were doing, except to notice that Tracey, Millicent and Theodore all seemed to be about at his pace. They took notes during the second period. During lunch, Harry ate and did homework from Defense at the same time. That meal, he ate with Katie, Alicia, Angelina, Queenie, Leann Hooch and Selene Grant. Alicia and Angelina had become Katie's constant bodyguards, as through the beginning of her training, she'd be much more susceptible to overload than before. Harry was one of six people that Angelina said would be allowed to eat with them. Katie rolled her eyes at that.

Inter-house unity and mingling was at its peak, and didn't seem to be dropping anytime soon. Had everyone not previously known, it would hard to tell which table belonged to which house, due to the nearly equal numbers from the four houses inhabiting both tables. Only Draco Malfoy, Marcus Flint, and eight other Slytherin purists remained staunchly above the mingling. But now they couldn't control the moderate and "radical" Slytherins from mixing. Selene, Tracey, Julius, Millicent, Harriett, Theodore, Blaisie, Daphne, and Gracelyn, were among those who moved about, but they were only the ones that Harry recognized. There were many, many more, of all ages.

In Charms with the Ravenclaws, Flitwick complimented Su, Harry, Hermione, Anthony, Lisa, Dean, Morag, Terry and Stephan. He let any Ravenclaw who finished, Harry, Hermione, and Dean go on to the next charm in the textbook while he worked specifically with Ron, Seamus, Pavarti, Neville and Lavender. Neville wasn't bad at charms, he just didn't cast very well. And Dean wasn't as great as Su or Harry or Hermione, but charms was probably his best subject. After Charms, the Gryffindors met with the Hufflepuffs for their Astronomy lecture. They were talking about horoscopes at present (so Pavarti and Lavender were the most attentive students in the class) and western and eastern zodiacs. It was interesting enough. After class, Hermione and Neville stayed with Harry in Aurora's classroom and did homework for a while before Harry headed for Quidditch practice.

It felt _good_ to fly. Wood, after _finally_ realizing that there was absolutely nothing he could teach his teammates had started them practicing cross-position drills. It was hard! Katie, Angelina and Alicia worked really well together. Oliver meshed pretty well with the girls. Fred and George could pretty much read each others' minds. Harry understood the twins' stream of thought, and so he could predict where they'd smack the bludger next. He was also pretty good at staying out of the chasers way. Oliver wanted to erase that now. Now he wanted Harry involved with both beaters and chasers. He wanted the girls to be able to throw to Fred and George and the beaters use their bats to control the Quaffle. So, for the whole practice, Oliver had Harry passing the ball around with the girls, while he threw Quaffles at Fred and George and demanded that the twins control the oddly shaped ball as well. Fred and George struggled. Quaffles and beaters' bats weren't designed to be used in tandem, but Oliver seemed confident that they'd master it.

After practice, the team hung out in the locker rooms and Fred and George taught Harry how to play pocker. They'd already taught Oliver and the girls knew. Oliver, unfortunately, somewhat stunk at the game, so he lost handily. Harry picked up on the game rapidly enough, and it came down to battles between him and Katie almost constantly. The flabbergasting twins complained that Harry had been previously corrupted. Katie just smirked. She knew. Harry even knew more than she did. Katie's empathy let her get at least a baseline reading of others, and as Harry could somewhat subconsciously use that, he piggy-backed on her powers to stay in a tight second. After forty-five minutes, an exasperated Oliver headed back for the common room. The rest of the team played for a lot longer.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Once the school settled back into its routine, life flew by. Core classes, three electives, homework, Quidditch, the play, metamorphmagus training with Tonks, spending time with a multitude of friends, talking with Aurora, checking in with Professor McGonagall, language tutoring from Professor Babbling, emotion-magic tutoring from Flitwick, and somehow finding time to sleep made school start to fly by. Harry Bellwood and Harry Bailey approached him with an idea for the Gryffindor talent show and he readily agreed. Word of the talent show had leaked to the whole school and many students were demanding that it take place in the Great Hall or the auditorium so they got to see the acts as well. Hufflepuff even began planning their own talent show, but Ravenclaw stuck with just their Intelligence Bowls.

Speaking of that, Thursday found Harry and Able meeting with Eddie and Nora Carmichael in a back corner of the library. They were joined by Slytherin fourth year Persephone Grant. Seriously. Harry mentally slapped himself again and again. Seriously. He would _have_ to ask what was up with all the twins! Selene and Persephone. Nora and Eddie. Kenneth and Kaitlin. Fred and George. Pavarti and Padma. Artemis and Pallas. There were just far too many twins. And so Harry asked. Nora said that it was because twins were a blessing, that twins were magical. Persephone pointed out that there were two sets of triplets: Io, Iris and Icarus Crane (7th years, Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw) and Harry (yet another one), Abigail and Natasha Meyers (1st year Ravenclaws). He was also missing Temperance and Chastity Regan as twins. When he'd learned Chastity's name to please Kenneth, he'd assumed they were like the Robbins sisters… And Vanity and Clarity Engleston, and Ian and Grace Finch-Fletchley (all four of them were Hufflepuff 1st years). That brought the total count to nine sets of twins and two sets of triplets. Harry did the really quick math in his head. Approximately twelve percent of the school was a part of some a twin-dom or a triplet-dom. It was _weird!_

Harry's ranting about the twin population of Hogwarts somehow gave Nora the idea for their team name: What's HAP'ENing? The rest of the team didn't really get it, but they went along with it anyway.

Harry had learned that if a scary girl wanted something... scary girl got it.


	20. Talent

_A/N: I don't really write humor. I'm not good at it. Don't judge._

Chapter Twenty

Talent

Care of Magical Creatures was interesting during October. There were another three injuries, bringing the total tally for the third years up to five. Malfoy, Goyle, Michael Corner, Hannah, and Crabbe had all been hurt at one point or another by Hagrid's insane fascinating for the unsafe creatures. When Malfoy first got hurt, there were rumors that his father would bring about a complaint about the creature that nicked his son's arm, but nothing came of that. It had – Harry sort of remembered – been a problem in the fabricated world. Yeah, the more interesting, dangerous creatures were a lot better than flobberworms. They spent a several class periods on the border of the Forbidden Forest, talking about centaurs. It was awesome. They also spent time on ashwinders, post-owls, squids, a variety of normal house-hold pets, and some of creatures that Lupin was teaching in DADA. Most Gryffindors loved the class. Most Slytherins despised it, but the lines between the houses were quickly becoming something that no one took into account anymore.

And Harry hadn't been involved. It was a history changing event at Hogwarts, and for once, Harry could sit back and honestly claim absolutely no involvement. And he loved it.

Friday, October 22nd, the rumor started circulating that the ten remaining Slytherin purists were to be completely and totally shunned for the weekend. Marcus Flint, Terrance Higgs, Adam Yaxley, Maria Flint, Roger Montague, Elizabeth Higgs, Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, and Pansy Parkingson were not to be spoken too or acknowledged during the weekend. On everyone else's house, they were to join a rebelling against the segregation of the house cup. A petition was put forward that would change the house cup and adapt the Quidditch cup in subtle manners. Anyone who signed the petition was told to not accept house points during the weekend and the following week. It drove Snape batty with all the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws walked out on him when he screeched at them for not caring about the point system. It drove him even crazier when most of the Slytherins walked out with them. Snape and his gang had lost power within the Slytherin house. No one knew were the petition had originated. No one knew who had started the rebellion.

The teachers, well, mostly, didn't vocally support it. Snape and Dumbledore vocally condemned it. Some of the non-Slytherin students were openly, vocally, abrasively critical of the petition. But Harry and his friends signed. Most everyone he knew signed. And Aurora stopped taking and giving points. Flitwick, Sprout, most of the prefects, Babbling, and Lupin cut back on their use of points, almost entirely. Vector and McGonagall lessened the amounts of their given and taken points. Binns didn't change. Hagrid openly gave Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor as many points as he could give while taking points from Slytherin. It was only his efforts that kept the point counters anywhere close to even. But then someone talked to him. Then Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor shot into the negatives, hitting some couple hundred negative in just a week. Nearly every single point taken from those three houses came from Snape or Dumbledore. Slytherin remained at about 106 points.

Someone – she wouldn't say who – approached Hermione and roped her into the recording the points that Snape took from people in his class. Someone – no one really knew who – had leaked the point situation to a reporter at the Daily Prophet and the story had made second page news (but only because the Cannons had won a game; nothing can be more news worthy and sensational than that). And Harry loved every minute of it. For once, everything didn't focus around him. For once, he wasn't the one running the rebellion or openly hated or, or… It was wonderful. He had friends. He had a multitude of friends. There were more and more people he was growing to trust. Sally-Anne had returned, and the four Hufflepuff girls spent an increasing amount of time with him, Neville, Hermione and their other friends. Wayne, Justin and Ernie seemed to come with them.

Wood, much to his consternation, had signed the petition and he, along with Diggory and Davies stopped practicing. Instead, Harry worked with Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang as the three good seekers at Hogwarts to organize pick-up games nearly every night. Each night, one of the three of them or some other older member of a Quidditch team would organize a game between whoever showed up. Harry only made it to two or three, but they were absolutely brilliant fun. Younger players were encouraged to come to these, so Harry finished meeting nearly all the second years. Zach Wood, Sapphire Vaisey and Sebastian Urquhart, all Slytherin second years, showed a lot of potential talent as a chaser team.

Zachary Wood was the third Wood, in actuality. There was Oliver, Sally, Zach and Diana. And… Harry double checked to be sure, but Kenneth confirmed it. The Woods were the only family to have a kid in each house. It was Harry who then gathered the Woods together and convinced them to become spokespeople for the ever growing house unity. They didn't need much prompting. The school was already upside down as it was.

And in the mix of all the chaos came Halloween. The 31st was a Sunday; the Saturday before, most every third year and above went to Hogsmeade, although Harry had told Sarah that if she wanted, he'd stay and help her finalize their show. She ordered him to go. Harry loved Hogsmeade. He traveled around with Hermione, Neville and Able, who showed him the sites in the morning. Kenneth came and stole Hermione away for lunch. Which Harry thought was a little odd, but he figured he'd speak to Kenneth about it when he had the time. Harry and his friends ate lunch at the high end restaurant in Hogsmeade: Vanilla's Season. It was Harry, really, who invited Able, Neville, Eddie, Nora, Selene, Persephone, Tracey and Millicent to dine on his dollar. But that didn't exactly happen. Neville insisted on paying for himself and Millicent. Persephone paid for herself and Eddie. Able picked up Nora's and his own tab. Tracey haughtily insisted on paying for her own meal. That left Harry and Selene. She ended up paying for their entrées. Harry bought everyone's drinks, appetizers and desserts.

It was a fun meal. Eddie and Persephone made a bit of an odd couple, but the way Nora and Selene complained about it, they'd been dancing around each other long enough. Neville and Tracey got in a lively dispute over some law that was up for review in Wizengamots. Harry watched his friends, all eight of them. All _eight_ of them. And he had more friends. Way more friends! It felt so incredibly good… the stuff feeling he got after sharing a gigantic chocolate lava cake with Selene for desert was another memory he'd use for a patronus. It just felt so good! After lunch, Eddie and Persephone took off together, Selene, Tracey and Millicent decided to show Nora a true wizarding clothing store, and so Neville and Able ended up by themselves again. Able made a comment about how being friends with the Boy-Who-Lived attracted more girls. Harry jokingly slugged him. Neville pointed out that it was true. Harry sighed and protested that they were all his friends. Neither Neville nor Able contested that fact.

They found the fourth year Gryffindor girls not long after that. Mary, Eliza, Queenie, Katie, Demelza and Dakota waved hello and stopped the boys for an extended chat. Katie looked like she was handling the village very, very well. Following that, Harry led Able and Neville off the main road and down a few residential blocks until they reached the corner of Lunar St. and D'monde Court. The Enon house was mostly closed off and rather dark, but the locked door responded to the correct version of Harry's portfolio key and the three boys stepped inside the three story residential building.

It was large, spacious, and probably really comfortable. The lights came up automatically, welcoming the Gryffindors into a large, very airy feeling first floor. The first floor had nearly no walls in it; a very visible set of stairs were set into the far back corner. An ornate fireplace graced one wall. Harry figured that this would be the perfect place to hold a dance party or something. And it was his. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling; it wasn't lit, but it still looked gorgeous. Everything appeared to be in good repair. They headed for the second floor.

There was a kitchen, a few bathrooms, a dining room, a living room, a study with a few personal journals in a bookshelf. Harry flipped through the journals while Neville and Able explored the rest of the second floor. He eventually just grabbed the two that looked most interesting – one talking about some potions experiments and the other what seemed to be a long winded rant about participating in Wizengamots. Harry figured it would give him a different perspective on that governmental body. The third floor was divided into four bedrooms. The master bedroom was huge. The bed was huge. The house was really cool. He could conceivably host Neville, Hermione, the Spinnet girls, and the two Vanes in this house, as long as they didn't mind doubling up and sharing rooms. The rooms were certainly large enough to share.

Harry found another personal journal of the last leader of the Enon family and stuffed it in his bag. He wanted to get to know his benefactor, just like Cornelius and Opal Bartholomew… There was also attic space tucked behind some of the bedrooms, but it was full of stuff and Able decided that they didn't have time to explore it because they'd promised Sarah that they'd come in early to put the final touches on their presentation for the following day. So they left, locked up the house, and promised to help Harry inventory the attic during the next Hogsmeade weekend.

Sunday was a blast.

Most of the Gryffindors were up early, getting last minute details in place. Angelina and Dean were rushing around, having somehow ended up as the two kids in charge of the whole thing. Dean had done an excellent job putting together a program that he let Harry and Seamus see ahead of time. Towards the end of the program was one act entitled: "OMG! It's HARRY POTTER!" It said it was being performed by the fifth year boys. Harry felt a little sick, thinking about what the Fred, George, Kenneth and Lee could do with that title. Harry's act with the other two Harry's was the third act to go. His act with his other friends was last. Good; he'd have time to change from costume to costume and still watch a majority of the show. The show was scheduled to start at three, and then run until six, which was about an hour before the Halloween feast. Jitters among the Gryffindors ran high as their out of house friends laughed at them or provided comfort.

Harry spent most of the morning with Paradise, Lily, Vicky, Charles, James and Jack, helping them prepare for the comedy skit they had put in order.

Three pm rolled around.

The Hogwarts auditorium was full of students and teachers.

The curtain lifted. The show began.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Eliza Kirke opened. She sang a song, detailing the history of Hogwarts. Only Dumbledore recognized that nearly every line in her song was stolen from the Sorting Hat's song from different years. It was actually a very accomplished feat.

Eric Kettleburn and Sarah Bathsheba followed. They sang a parody of a Celestina Warbeck song. It was hysterical. Sarah was playing Celestina and Eric a guy who sang about how he hated her songs. "Celestina" just took that as encouragement and sang louder and awfuller and her dancing got worse. At one point, Sarah did the chicken dance. Muggleborns and halfbloods lost all control of their laughter then.

Then it was time for a skit entitled "Confusion." In the program, it said only that Confusion was being performed by "Harry." Harry Potter wobbled out on stage in a very obvious white beard and white wig. Both beard and wig straggled down to his toes and he kept giving the illusion that he tripped over his own beard. He settled, in an old, slow manner, on a throne-like chair in the middle of the stage. To almost everyone, it was obvious he was supposed to be Albus Dumbledore. Harry Bellwood, in a Harry Potter wig and glasses darted on stage, looking around with wide eyes. The two of them exchanged a few cryptic words about socks. No one but Dumbledore understood that – and he looked a bit affronted. Then Harry Bailey jumped on stage, wearing a ninja costume and a Harry Potter wig and glasses. The seven minute play then proceeded to reveal that they were _all_ Harry Potters. They were constantly talking over each other and trying to be the most Harry Potter-ish of them all. It wasn't particularly funny, and Bellwood lost character near the end and starting giggling, but it went over well. The skit ended to all three Harry's shouting their names at each other. They ran off the stage to applause from most people, but a glare from Dumbledore.

Harry got out of his costume and into his narrator robes before joining his friends in one of the reserved boxes of the auditorium. Angelina had made a point of making the boxes available for Gryffindors who had already gone or were waiting to go so they could still see the show.

The six first years Harry'd been helping put on a rendition of a Shakespeare comedy that he had no frame of reference for. Hermione and Able found it particularly amusing, especially because they messed up the Shakespearean language so badly. Harry did get that; it was very amusing to here an eleven-year-old stutter over seemingly foreign words.

Both Cormac and Ron attempted, albeit separately, to be stand-up comedians. Neither of them got many laughs.

One of Harry's favorite acts was the juggling show that Angelina, Katie and Alicia did. Angelina opened, juggling three neutral colored balls. Katie and Alicia tossed her more and more balls until Angelina was juggling nearly nine balls. Katie and Alicia started juggling on the side, but they were only doing three balls and some tricks they added to the performance. After a few seconds, Alicia set up a hoop and Angelina managed to throw all nine balls through the hoop without dropping a one. While she was doing that, Katie stepped center stage and started juggling an hour-glass shaped object on a stick. She did all sorts of tricks with that; it was awesome. When Alicia came forward, Katie backed up and let Alicia start with the pins. Angelina stepped up them, put her wand near her mouth and murmured a barely audible _incendio_. The fire seemed to spring from Angelina's mouth and catch hold of the pins Alicia was juggling. She was now playing with fire. It was awesome to watch. When their act finished, the Gryffindor chasers bowed to ruckus applause.

Emma and William performed a dance. It was gorgeous! It was a ballet piece, Hermione assured him, from some famous ballet. They were both really good.

And then the fifth year boys were up.

Harry had no words to describe the horror.

Fred, George and Kenneth were all poorly dressed as girls, as if they'd taken the time to look like a guy playing a girl. And not the Hermione type of girl. No, this was full blown Lavender-Pavarti-in-six-years type of girl. And they all had copies of Witch Weekly that had a large picture of Harry's face on it and the words: Most Eligible Bachelor. And they were squealing. _Squealing._ Harry had learned to expect a lot from the twins and their roommates, but this was a bit much. They spent well over two minutes describing in such specific detail why Harry was the most eligible bachelor. It had everyone but Harry in gales of laughter. And then Lee came on stage. And Lee had a Harry Potter wig on, but his glasses were sunglasses and his clothes were the most bejeweled, glitzed out clothes Harry'd ever seen. He looked like a bad rock star. And the girls – em… yeah… - just _fawned_ over him. And it still had everyone laughing!

Harry couldn't take it. It was horrific.

It was Sarah who patted him on the back when he started coughing.

Thankfully, they ended quickly. When the twins ended, the five friends left their box and moved into their positions on stage. Sarah and Neville were in costume. Hermione and Able had their wands ready. They missed the act in between Kenneth's and theirs, but Harry didn't care. When it came time, the lights dimmed to almost nothing and Harry swept out on stage, his dark cloak billowing like professor Snape's. Sarah's first picture, a gloomy castle suffering the torrent of rain shimmered into appearance in the air behind Harry. The narrator stopped, center stage, and looked out at the audience. They were quiet. Breathless. "It's quite a story," Harry began, "and like so many tragic tales, it begins in a familiar location, with a familiar, heart-wrenching situation." He paused and lowered his head. The rain in Sarah's drawing seemed to move, shaking back and forth and appearing to truly rain. A pre-recorded sound spell held a horrific shriek and what was obvious was a girl trying to escape from an abusive situation. But she didn't escape. Harry found Paradise in the audience; she had known this was coming, but still his little sister looked rather ashen. The pre-recorded sound was another scream, a slammed door, and the decisive click of a key. Harry raised his head, staring at the audience. "But phoenixes aren't meant to be caged."

The castle picture faded and was replaced by the inside of a bare tower. Sarah, in her delicate red costume, stood out against the black and white background. It had taken some pretty complicated spells and some very good mime work on Sarah's behave to give the impression that she was truly caged within the tower. Sarah took it one step beyond that, and she conveyed how terrified her character was of the tower and of imprisonment. "She will try to escape," Harry paused again, letting the audience refocus on Sarah as she commanded center stage, if just behind Harry. "But she will fail, because her magic is not yet strong enough. Because she is not yet old enough. Because when trapped, phoenixes are in fatal peril." Here, Sarah mimed a panic attack before the stage went dark and she dashed off the stage. "There are those," Harry said, "that could help the poor phoenix. There is a prince. A prince of water and ice. A prince so different from the phoenix, but he was the only one who dared ride to the phoenix's aid." Another picture of Sarah's showed up, of a Neville-esque prince on a horse almost certainly crafted from ice, riding on and on. Sarah had drawn ten different poses of the knight and horse and Able had managed to string them together in a loop so it appeared like the horse galloped through a snow storm.

"Water and ice and cold. Fire and heat. They are opposites. They were destined."

The galloping horse faded.

"But the powers that controlled the phoenix fought this destiny, desperate to keep it from coming to fulfillment." Here, it was Neville on stage, with a conjured, shining sword in hand. He mimed battling foes from Sarah's drawings. Sarah really had out-done herself on the villain pictures. For a good minute, Neville and the pictures battled and it seemed real. "Through persistence and effort, the prince fought his way to the phoenix's chambers to free her. And this is where the final showdown came about." Neville and Sarah were both on stage now, both in Sarah's tower. From the pictures, a lordly black shadow hung over him.

"They were destined," Harry repeated, his voice slow and sad. "But they could not defeat the powers that be. They fought, long, valiantly," pause, "in vein." It was all acted out behind him, all so visually stunning. "In the end," Harry said, whispering but not whispering, "the prince gave his life to the young phoenix, giving her energy and power and life." Neville crumbled to the stage. Harry heard a cry from the audience. "And this gave her the energy," Harry said, quiet, "to triumph." Here too, Sarah crumbled. No one heard Harry whisper _expecto patronum._ He held his wand behind his back, and the phoenix knew precisely what to do. The phoenix patronus blared up behind Harry, stretching its wings in a glorious sight of red and gold power. It was the hardest thing Able and Hermione had to do during the performance, shining light on the phoenix in such a way that it appeared red and gold. And they pulled it off. Harry raised his arms upward, framed by the phoenix behind. The black cloak fell from his shoulders and Harry too was dressed in red and gold. "And so the phoenix lived, beautiful, strong, yet sorrowful and broken, for it would never forget the sacrifice given by the prince of Ice and Water and Cold."

The pre-recorded sound of a phoenix song filled the auditorium. The phoenix patronum faded. The lights went out. The stage went black, but the song persisted for a good few seconds as the blackness hung. Harry walked of stage, grateful that Fawkes had so willingly recorded his voice… The song stopped. The act was over. The applause was immense. Harry, Sarah and Neville returned to the stage. They were joined by Hermione and Able. The five took a bow, acknowledging the crowd with smiles. Sarah looked ever so radiantly pleased. They left the stage to get changed into their uniforms. Angelina and Dean took the stage, reminding people to vote for their favorite acts and telling everyone that the results would be announced and rewards would be given at the feast that night. Professor McGonagall had been the one to sponsor the awards. Harry and his friends, all in excellent moods, headed for the Great Hall.

o.o.o.o.o.o

It was a Halloween feast to remember. Mostly because the Weird Sisters – no one but Harry and Professors McGonagall and Sinistra knew where the funding had come from – were set up behind the staff table and were playing during the whole meal. Mostly because there weren't any long tables, only the staff table and a never ending buffet right in front of the staff table. There was even only one table with ten seats; each seat had the name of one of the most despised kids in the school. Not even Ron or Cormac, who no one particularly liked, were so ostracized. It was a feast to remember because for the first time, no one important let house lines blur their judgment. Sure, prejudices hadn't left and there were definitely some pureblood purists outside of the ten Slytherins, but it wasn't a problem. It was _epic._

Harry was instantly mobbed by his close Hufflepuff friends. Sally-Anne and Susan had tear marks running down their faces and all four of his female Hufflepuff yearmates wanted hugs. Harry gave them, willingly. Congratulations were being given to Gryffindors all around for an inspired performance. Harry received more 'well done's than he knew what to do with, as did Sarah and Neville and Hermione and Able. Dean was instrumental in getting Sarah to set up the pictures she'd drawn for the performance on one of the walls of the Great Hall, and all throughout the feast, students would go up to the pictures and admire them. Sarah never wandered far from her pictures, and Harry could tell she was very, very overwhelmed by so much praise. An hour or so into the feast, Harry realized he hadn't seen any of the fifth year Gryffindor boys. Hermione pointed out they were probably hiding from him. Harry made a mental note to get them back, sometime. In the future.

The food was spectacular, the house elfs had truly out-down themselves preparing the food. The music and dancing was wonderful. And during breaks in the music, the members of the Weird Sisters would come down and mingle with the students. Musical historians would look back on that Halloween and blame it for the Weird Sisters truly getting off their feet and reaching pop-stardom. Musical historians would also cast blame on the Weasley Twins and Harry Potter for so influencing the Sisters' music so as it could sometimes be almost incomprehensibly funny and incredibly somber and serious, all from the same band. That Halloween truly jumped started the Weird Sisters' fame. Music would never be the same again.

Harry danced a lot during the feast. He danced with Hermione, the third year Hufflepuff girls, with Katie, Alicia, and Angelina, with Selene and Persephone, with Mary and the rest of the fourth year Gryffindor girls, with Tracey and Millicent, with Paradise, Lily and Vicky, with Romilda, with Leann, with Nora, with Su and the rest of the Ravenclaw third years, with Pavarti and Lavender, with Daphne, with Artemis and Pallas and Gracelyn Zale, with big Sarah and Emma and Ruth and Temperance and even Patricia. He danced with girls he didn't _know._ And, for what Dumbledore and McGonagall degreed would be the last dance of the night, Harry plucked up the courage and dragged an exhausted looking little Sarah away from her pictures and onto the dance floor. It was a slow dance, but both of them were too tired to assign any meaning too it. The song ended and Sarah failed to hold back a yawn. The crowd started to disappear.

It was Percy Weasley and Andrew Kirke who caused the panic. Percy, at least, was at least slightly discrete in the manner he ran towards the Headmaster and the Deputy Headmaster. But didn't manner. Andrew wasn't discrete. "The Fat Lady! She was attacked! The tower was broken into!" Beside Harry, Sarah tensed and instantly looked terrified. He clutched her hand, trying to calm her down.

Dumbledore left the room, hurriedly. McGonagall took charge. "Everyone, stay in the Great Hall. Professors, please round up any students who have already left and return them here." She turned to the band and said something, but no one heard what she said or the band's reply. McGonagall banished the buffet table and conjured up some two hundred plus sleeping bags, all spread out along the floor of the Great Hall. "Everyone, just grab a bag and settle down. We'll turn the lights out when everyone is accounted for."

Harry pulled a nearly catatonic Sarah with him to where Kenneth and Hermione were standing, not far away from Able and Queenie and Neville and Mary. Other people that Harry knew were around. Paradise was actively making her way towards them. All of his friends were looking towards him for advice, Harry noticed. He really did not have the brain power to handle that. "Um," Harry whispered, staring back at his friends, "just do what McGonagall says. Try and get some sleep, okay?"

"What's wrong, though," Paradise asked, her voice high and worried. "What's wrong? What happened to the Fat Lady?"

"I don't know," Harry said, grabbing Paradise's shoulders and forcing her to look at him, "but you're a Gryffindor, remember, Paradise. You're braver than the brave."

She bit her lip, looking uncertain. "But I'm scared."

Harry glanced at Sarah and saw the same sentiment echoed in her eyes. "Me too, Paradise." _Sharing personal stuff,_ Harry reflected, back to the thoughts he'd had when he first told Paradise about the Dursleys. So much had happened since then. But the principal remained the same. Paradise relaxed, but when Harry settled into a sleeping back, she insisted on the one to his direct right. No one protested when Sarah claimed the sleeping back on his left. They didn't know what was going on. They were scared. But they'd get through it. Together.

The lights went out.

The Weird Sisters struck up a lullaby.


	21. Black is Back!

A/N: I don't speak Latin. _Wo bu __shou hua Ladin (haishi zhongwen__)_. If you are offended for a liberal use of google translator, you have problems.

Chapter Twenty-One

Black is Back!

_Black is Back! Trouble in Hogwarts! _

_by Annaline Addison_

_Sirius Black, escaped convict, has again been sighted! Where is he now? He was sighted by the guardian portrait of the Gryffindor Tower at Hogwarts! Have not our children suffered enough? Is the security of Hogwarts so atrocious that a mass, unstable memory charm can be cast over the entire student body and a dangerous Azkaban escapee can walk away unapprehended? The Daily Prophet wants reforms! The staff of St. Mungos wants reforms! Even the students themselves are taking measures into their own hands and attempting to force reform! To what effect? To what end? Black is still on the loose, still terrorizing our sons and our daughters. And who is looking for reform?_

_What can you do to help? As always, be wary of Black, and if you see him, contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement immediately. If you have any information on how Black broke into Hogwarts, or information on the Memory Charm at Hogwarts, please contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement immediately. If you are sheltering Black, or whomever cast the mass Memory Charm, remember that harboring a fugitive is punishable offense and please contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement immediately._

_As for the Hogwarts situation, reform__s can only be implemented by the Hogwarts Board and Headmaster Dumbledore. It is these individuals to whom you should address suggestions, advice and concern to. As always, letters to the editors here at the Daily Prophet are always welcome. I quote from a__ letter written by a sixth year Hogwarts student who wishes to remain anonymous: _'We're in trouble. The school is in trouble. I think all of us students have woken up and realized are fundamental problems with our society and we are honor bound to try and rectify these problems. I don't care what the government thinks of me, what the school thinks of me; but my education is suffering because of the poor standards of Hogwarts.'_ The full letter may be found printed on page seven._

_This quote only vaguely summarizes the problems at Hogwarts. In the past two weeks alone, Professor Severus Snape, potions, and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, have taken a combined total of six hundred and eighty-nine points from the houses of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. In the past two weeks, there has been no documented evidence of Professor Snape removing a house point from his personal house of Slytherin. Dedicated students have been documenting the points given and taken by various professors during the past two weeks, and these numbers are printed for convenience on page three. I believe you will find the unfair point spread to be shocking._

_Hogwarts _is_ the top school in all of England and it always has been. Our graduates school the highest on international tests and co__me out of the school with the best overall education. But is this a case of where the ends justify the needs? Along with the point spread, these dedicated students provided detailed reasons for why points were taken from each individual. "Ten points from G__ryffindor for breathing!" is a most shocking display. It is the opinion of this establishment that Severus Snape should not be allowed to teach children. And yet, while his graduating class is small, those who have graduated under the tutelage of Professor__ Snape have become the best brewers and pioneers in the world. I sought out Samuel Bathsheba, the youngest ever to receive commission employment from St. Mungo's Hospital for the Magical Ailment, and a student of Professor Snape._

'Everyone hated him,' _sai__d Bathsheba, '_Even I did. But the man taught a dangerous subject and I respect him for the knowledge he forced into me.'_ Bathsheba continued to talk about Snape's bias and how he was impossible to learn from if said professor disliked you. Should not this __be enough judgment, if one of the foremost pupils of a professor can cite multiple reasons for why a teacher should not be a teacher?! _

Hermione lowered the Daily Prophet and looked at her friends, wondering how she was going to summarize this article. It continued on and on and on, completely arguing for the removal of Snape, Lupin, Binns, Trelawney, Filch, Burbage, Hagrid, and even Dumbledore. It dithered back and forth between keeping Babbling or removing him. It further argued that McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, Vector, Sinistra, and the current Board of Education should be under review until their abilities teaching ability could be confirmed. The Gryffindor book-worm flipped to page nine and read the mini-biographies of the people that Addison believed would make excellent teachers to replace those who she argued should be kicked out. It seemed as if the whole Prophet had been written by the one, very abrasive woman. "Um," Hermione said, glancing at her friends again, "basically this report wants to kick out everyone but the best and then put those best under the review. She was… vague… about why she disliked Lupin." She laid the newspaper down on the table and stared at Harry. The boy had a guilty look on his face. "You know what's wrong with him, don't you?"

Harry nodded.

Hermione kept staring. "Well?"

"No."

"Harry—"

"He said no, Hermione," Neville said, munching on a piece of toast. "It's Professor Lupin's business, not ours."

"This Addison person is very thorough," Hermione commented, picking up the Prophet again. "Aside from not specifically stating her problems with Lupin," this was disapproval in her voice, both at Addison and Harry and anyone who kept secrets from her, "it's a very, very well argued piece." Able managed to pry the paper from Hermione's grasp and start reading it. It was during lunch on Tuesday, November 2nd. Classes yesterday had happened, but none of the teachers had tried to teach anything and none of the students had the willingness to cause any problems. There was a notably increase in the size of groups that traveled the halls together. Even Ginny and Patricia and the other loners didn't go anywhere without a year mate or each other. Most everyone was gathered together within the Great Hall; Harry theorized that people subconsciously recognized that there were too many hiding places in the library.

The house tables were set up again, but no one bothered with them; Harry and his four close friends were at the Ravenclaw table as the Gryffindor table was full when they arrived. A few of the second year girls were sitting near Harry, but he didn't really reach out to them. He vaguely remembered one of the girls as the prime kid that Luna Lovegood had named in her rant against Hogwarts. She knew. She knew even before all the fuss came about. Maybe he should right to the Prophet and talk about Luna… Um… No. No, he couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that! That, he wouldn't even think about doing that!

"What's the spell for non-aggressive color change? _Colo_-something."

"_Colore __illusio,_" Harry, Hermione, Neville and Able answered in unison. No one noticed the red apple that turned green.

Sarah dipped her quill back into her inkwell and kept writing an easy. "And the timed reverse?"

"_Colorusio consolare._" Again, all four voices answered her. No one noticed the apple that faded from green to red. None of them had their wands out.

"Really, Sarah," Hermione said, "you could just look those up in _The Standard Bo_—"

"It's in the dorm," Sarah said, dismissively. "Besides, I'm only using them as comparison for the aggressive color change, because that's the spell we were supposed to write the essay on. I know _colore mutatio._"

"_Ego amare Latinum_," Harry muttered under his breath. Only Hermione heard him, and yet again, her glare told him that she was in a bad mood. "_Pulchra es quasi flos,_ Hermione," He said, keeping his tone level, knowing that she would hate him for it.

Hermione glared. Neville snickered at them. "What did you say?" Hermione demanded.

"_Nǐ shì xiàng huā yīyàng měilì_," Harry replied. By now, Sarah and Able and tuned out their discussion, knowing that Harry would just annoy Hermione until she finally snapped and shrieked at him to stop using other languages. He'd taken more of an interest in Chinese, having someone to speak it with now. Su still laughed at him whenever he tried to say a full sentence, but he was getting better at correctly saying things in the tonal language.

Hermione huffed. "I'm going to smack you!"

Harry grinned and took out of piece of parchment and a quill. He didn't have homework or anything, but… He… This should be done.

o.o.o.o.o.o

It was Wednesday's edition that carried a particular powerful letter-to-the-editor.

_Dear Editor,_

_I am a Hogwarts student. I claim no part in the events unfolding, but I feel as if a certain aspect of what has happened to this school has been overlooked. Several weeks ago, a second year Ravenclaw was taken away from our school and confined to, we assume, a St. Mungo's ward for the insane. No one at Hogwarts has heard or seen her since. To Luna Lovegood and her family, I wish you the best and hope that good fortune may follow you. What worries me about this is what Luna did to be classified worthy of confinement within a mental institution._

_I was nearby when she and Gryffindor third year, Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, had a very odd conversation. They were not being secretive, and several of the nearby Ravenclaws were actively listening in. They were talking about truth and lies and how communication occurs if one cannot establish a truthful basis on which to communicate. It seemed as if young Lovegood had never thought about this problem before. Is this a mark of insanity or just a sheltered lifestyle? Had, as a child, Lovegood been exposed much to other children? Had she learned to play and laugh and be innocent with others her own age? I do not know and I do not begin to postulate. Lovegood's and Potter's conversation was brief, and it ended with Lovegood reaching some epiphany of sorts. She began to tell the truth. Bluntly._

_And what were Lovegood's tru__ths? She disliked her roommates having been tormented by them,__ an unfortunately frequent occurrence. She had a crush on a well-liked teacher, a not abnormal thing. Her name is_ Luna _Lovegood. This third blunt statement is the first of the most heartbr__eaking. I have, since the date of this incident, discovered that only Professors ever called her by her true name. Her roommates, her yearmates, her housemates, and anyone introduced to her by other students knew her only by the moniker of 'Loony.' Name ca__lling is discouraged in the best of circumstances. It is demeaning, derogatory, and hurtful. Luna dealt with such horrors constantly._

_The young Ravenclaw continued to reveal a systematic abuse that she had suffered during her time at the school. Stolen shoes and destroyed homework were only two of the grievances Lovegood brought forward. She stated that the establishment of Hogwarts did nothing to alleviate this systematic torture. The school is there to protect and teach and mentor its students, and in Lovegood's case, the school failed on each and every level. At that point, Lovegood's rant escalated. She talked about the previous year, about how a giant basilisk had roamed the halls, petrified multiple students and kidnapped a girl for its own. She stated that You-Know-Who had possessed a fellow first year at the time. She stated that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher of the time was a moronic fraud. And what did Lovegood do next? She blamed Albus Dumbledore. At the time, it had fully circulated on the rumor circuit that Harry Potter lived in an abusive household, and Lovegood stated that Headmaster Dumbledore was the one responsible for this._

_I cannot confirm or deny this; I do not know the truth in this circumstance. But I saw the truth in Luna's eyes. I witnessed everything and do not believe that girl was capable of lying while she stood in front of the school and bared her whole existence to those who tormented her. Following her laying blame on Dumbledore, a stunner hit her in the back – it had to be from a teacher. It was Headmaster Dumbledore who ordered the school nurse to take the girl to the hospital wing to receive a mental analysis. No one at Hogwarts has seen or heard from Lovegood since. Luna, if you're reading this, know that we do believe you. The facts, they speak for you. Feel better._

_Thank you for your consideration,_

_Anonymous_

Hermione started banging the newspaper against the table. "People need to stop writing anonymous letters! They need to stand up and acknowledge that they did what they did." Harry stared at her, rather calmly, and did not argue. She'd already read aloud four anonymous letters to the editors from people at Hogwarts. The one about Luna – the one that Harry had agonized over for hours – had been the only one he actually listened to. It sounded horrid and pathetic coming from Hermione's mouth. They were sitting with Su, Anthony and Kevin at the Gryffindor table. Able, Neville and Sarah had all shifted to sit with different people. Sarah had not gone willingly. Harry had had to beg Clara and Clementine to invite her and then wheedle and whine at Sarah before she'd accept. He was trying to get Sarah more comfortable with more people.

"I think the anonymous letters are effective," Kevin said. "If that person had given herself/himself an identity, I think the letter would be a lot less powerful. Think about it, Hermione, if that letter was signed by Melissa Ackerly, would you believe it?"

Hermione blinked. "Who's Ackerly?"

"Second year Raven," Harry said, after taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "Regarded as Lovegood's main antagonist; and Kevin, that's a bit of an extreme case. I'd probably believe it if it came from Fawcett or Sally Wood or other older Ravenclaws."

"I just don't like anonymity," Hermione grossed, folding up the paper and sliding it in her shoulder bag. "People should be brave enough to stand up for what they believe in."

"It's really not that simple," Anthony murmured. The Goldstein was normally rather timid; he rarely joined any of Hermione's arguments lightly. "Sometimes people can't express their opinions or they'll be persecuted for it."

"Well it's _wrong_," Hermione persisted. "We have freedom of speech! We shouldn't be condemned for choosing to say what we believe!" Su watched the discussion, not particularly interested.

"But we are," Kevin and Anthony said together. They looked at each other, and Kevin continued. "Look, Malfoy calls someone a mudblood. In retaliation, that muggleborn calls Malfoy some version of a bastard." Hermione's face was turning a ruffled shade of red. "Malfoy isn't going to get in trouble," Kevin said, "but the muggleborn will, because the Malfoys have _power._ This society isn't what you think it is, Hermione. We're very, very centered on the golden rule."

The color in Hermione's face faded, only to be instantly replaced with confusion. "Do unto others as you want them to do unto you?"

"He who has the gold makes the rules," Anthony, Kevin and Harry parroted back to her. Harry liked that statement; he had the gold. He had far more gold than Malfoy and his cronies. Sure, he was still a kid, but as soon as he was an adult, he'd bring change. He _would_. He had the means and the motivation… He'd help people. "It's time for our next classes," Harry said. He and Hermione had Potions. The Ravenclaws had History. The group split immediately after getting up from the table. Harry and Hermione collected Neville, Tracey and Millicent from the various other tables and the five of them headed down for Potions. No one, not even the four vile Slytherins were looking forward to the class.

Professor Snape lounged in his chair, his feet propped up on his desk, a maniac grin on his face. Black ropes accented his elongated limbs. The man looked evil, there was no other word for it. The instructions for brewing a mid-level healing draught were written in meticulously small script on the blackboard. "Begin," was the only thing Snape said, when the students filed to their assigned desks. Seamus greeted Harry cordially enough, and the two of them started heating the specific base – a liter of water infused with lavender and cinnamon. Seamus mostly handled the base while Harry cut up the ingredients for the actually potion. It wasn't a difficult potion to brew. It was just impossible to focus with Snape lounging uncharacteristically relaxed above the classroom.

Half an hour into the class, Snape stood and began strolling through the cauldrons. Neville and Pavarti's cauldron was smoking. Hermione and Lavender's potion was perfect. Ron and Dean were struggling, probably more than Neville and Pavarti. Harry and Seamus's cauldron was closest to Hermione's than any other of the Gryffindor's concoctions. Snape sneered. What happened next was so subtle Harry could have almost convinced himself it wasn't intentional. Professor Snape's hand snaked out and tipped over Ron and Dean's cauldron. The cauldron fell. The inept potion spilled, splashing over Dean. Ron jumped away. The potion hit the fire beneath it and the fireball was one to remember. The fire caught hold of Dean, who hadn't moved away, who couldn't move away. There were screams. Shouts. Snape did nothing. Harry leapt forward and pulled Dean away from the fire, pushing him to the ground and smothering the flames. Dean was screaming, not out of fear, but pain. "Pavarti, get Madam Pomfrey," Harry ordered. Dean's entire front seemed burned.

"Miss Patil," Snape drawled, stopping her run for the door, "if you leave this classroom, you with not be allowed to return."

She stopped.

Horrified.

Harry got to his feet, glaring at his teacher. "He needs medical attention!"

Snape snorted. "Mr. Thomas is fine."

"No he's not!" Harry shouted. "Pav, go!" She went, bounding like a fleet gazelle through the dungeons. He'd chosen her because she was the smallest and the fastest kid – excepting him – in the class. Hermione was keeping the rest of the students away from Dean's shivering body, repeatedly telling them to give him room to breathe. Harry struggled to not pay any attention to the Potions Professor as he took inventory of Dean's injuries. His face and chest was badly burned. "Tracey," Harry said, figuring she'd know, "are there burn potions in the cupboard?"

The Slytherin girl had already retrieved a bottle of burn soother from the cupboard. Harry grabbed it from her and applied some of it to Dean's left check. He knew that the potion was supposed to fizz a soft white color, but it didn't. It foamed into an ugly red and spread over Dean's check. Snape laughed. Dean screamed. It was making the burns worse! Harry slashed at the cream, pulling it from his friend's face. The mutated potion burnt the tips of Harry's fingers. Something had reacted badly. Dean, still on the floor, started to rock in pain. The burns were bad. "Ron," Harry nearly shouted, "what did you put in that thing!"

Ron stammered.

"Cayenne?' Hermione said. Her nose was buried in both Ron's and Dean's spice cabinets. "You idiot! You used cayenne instead of cinnamon. Of all the idiotic-!"

"Miss Granger," Snape oozed, still laughing, "an innocent mistake to be sure." Dean, still on the floor, started to shudder with pain. His moans filled the room. Harry didn't know how to help him. He bent over his friend, desperate, and suffered Snape's temper. The teacher launched into him, belittling, blaming, bemoaning. Snape called him names, profanities, anything to get Harry riled. The words grated over Harry's irate temper. He didn't notice Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe and Parkinson laughing at him. He didn't notice Hermione's and Millicent's pleas for him not to act. He didn't notice Seamus and Lavender's panic, Neville's horror, Tracey's and Daphne's eagerness for something to be done, Blaise's shock, and Theodore's anger. His classmates were nothing at that moment. There was only Dean and Snape. Snape, who was acting more and more like Uncle Dursley. "You're a good for nothing _freak_," Snape said, ending his anti-Harry rant.

Harry stood, slowly, his breath gone. His chest was constricted; he couldn't breathe! "You sir," Harry said, his voice deadly calm, "are letting a student suffer for your own enjoyment. You, sir, deserve every second of whatever punishment the Ministry gives you, because believe me—" His voice rose in pitch and pace until he was screaming at Snape, "—they will punish you for this!"

Snape slapped him. The back of his professor's hand flung downward and connected with Harry's cheek. The entire class could see the momentum carry through Harry, spinning him to the side with the sheer force of the blow. Harry's lip cracked. The boy straightened, and only those behind Professor Snape – Daphne, Blaise, and the ones no one would talk to – could see the fear and panic and pain in Harry's eyes. The boy opened his mouth to say something. He didn't.

Snape kicked him in the chest. Harry flew backward. His head connected with the edge of a desk and he slumped to the floor besides Dean. Harry blacked out.

The class stared.

It was Hermione who first reached for her wand. "_Petrificus totalus!_" Her shaky voice cried. The spell sped towards Snape, but he raised a shield to block it. "Miss Granger—"

Neville, Seamus, Lavender, Tracey, Millicent, Daphne, Theodore, Ron, Blaise and Hermione all shrieked the petrification charm at their teacher. He couldn't block them all. Pansy's shriek "You attacked a teacher!" caused Daphne to whirl on her. Daphne and Blaise froze their four housemates in quick succession. And that was when Pomfrey and Pavarti returned. That was when Hermione and Millicent broke into sobs. That was when, for most of the third years, the Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry ended for once and for all.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry opened his eyes, and found himself not at all surprised to see the familiar ceiling of the hospital wing. He looked around. That was Dean, in the bed next to him, spread out in a very straight, unnatural position. Was he okay? Harry found Madam Pomfrey talking with Aurora. He coughed. Pomfrey jumped and hurried towards him; the two women followed her. "You're awake, Harry."

"Yeah. How's Dean?"

"He will heal," Pomfrey said. She cast a diagnosis spell on Harry's head. "It will be slow, due to our inability to use most burns salves, but he will heal. You've just got to stay overnight for observation, that _man_ gave you a mild concussion." She wasn't even calling him Snape. That was impressive. "I believe some of your friends will be visiting after dinner, which, I believe, would be just a few minutes from now." Pomfrey moved back to check on Dean. Aurora was looking down at him. She looked scared.

Aurora collapsed into the chair beside Harry's bed and started fiddling with the hair on his forehead. "I was only out for a few hour, right?" At her nod, Harry relaxed a bit. "What happened? What's going to happen now?"

"Your classmates petrified Snape and those four Slytherins," Aurora said, slowly. "Pomfrey transported you and Dean here and tended you. All of the unpetrified students came with her; she left Snape petrified in the classroom. And… yeah. I'm pretty sure Dumbledore went to fetch him, but I'm not sure."

There was a knock at the hospital wing door. Madam Pomfrey went to go see who it was. She opened the door and let in two intimidating aurors. The aurors marched up to Harry's bedside. "Ma'am," the lead auror addressed Aurora, "may we ask your charge some questions?" She nodded.

"Mr. Potter," said the lead auror, "can you describe the events that led to Severus Snape's assault on you?"

Harry shrugged again. "He tipped over two of my classmate's cauldron. The potion spilled. It caught fire and leapt to one of my classmates. He… he just let Dean burn! I pushed Dean to the floor and tried to smother the flames. He'd already be burnt pretty bad when I succeeded. One of my classmates went running for Madam Pomfrey and another handed me a burn potion. The teacher did nothing! I started to apply the burn potion, but it reacted badly to what, um, something in the spilt potion. Cayenne?" Harry took a deep breath. "I tried to help Dean. It wasn't working. Snape started verbally attacking me and, and," Harry trailed off. He wasn't brave enough to keep talking. He didn't want to keep talking. "I got mad. I told him he'd be punished. He hit me." Harry hunched his shoulders and stared at his hands. His right hand was bandaged. Wh…why?

"Do you believe Severus Snape is entirely responsible for this altercation?"

Harry shrugged.

"Mr. Potter, can you tell us why you told Severus Snape he would be punished?"

Harry looked at Aurora for support, but her face was stony and upset. It wasn't very comforting. "He's an adult," Harry said. "He's an adult and a teacher no less. No adult should be allowed to do what he did to Dean. I get that the student body has made him mad with our rebellion, but this is _physical_ abuse."

The aurors nodded and left. Pomfrey came over and half smiled at her patient. "You up to seeing visitors? There's already some twenty something people asking to see you."

Harry blinked. "Um, sure."

Poppy pulled the curtains closed around Dean's bed. The mediwitch then went to the door and looked out into the packed antechamber. "Two at a time, five minutes each, Miss Granger, if you will be so kind as to see to the order…"

Neville and Seamus were the first people to come in. They stood at either side of Harry's bed and grinned at him, somewhat sheepishly. Seamus started talking first, "You missed it during dinner tonight. These two aurors burst into the Great Hall with an arrest for Snape. Dumbledore tried to argue with them, but they wouldn't budge. They hauled Snape off in cuffs!"

"Dumbledore is livid," Neville said, "absolutely livid. He kept saying it was all lies and mistakes. He tried to say it was the students who should be punished for antagonizing a teacher."

"But the aurors set him straight," Seamus said, "they even complimented Hermione and the rest of us for strong _petrificus totalus_es."

"We all ate dinner together," Neville said, figuring that Harry would want to know about that, "all the Gryffindor and Slytherin third years. Daphne and Pavarti discovered they get on really well. It was cool. The rivalry, at least for us, is pretty much over."

"I'm sorry I missed it," Harry said, wishing he really had been there. If what Neville said was the case and the rivalry was truly over… that would be awesome.

"Ron didn't eat with us, though," Seamus said, "I heard him mocking Malfoy though, so he probably still supports the rivalry." Neville nodded.

"Well, feel better, Harry," Seamus said, putting a small stack of packages at the table by the foot of the bed. "All the goodies are for you and Dean to split, when he's feeling better." They left. After Neville and Seamus came Theodore and Blaise. It was a bit of an awkward conversation which mostly consisted of Theodore saying that Harry had his support, no matter what happened, he'd have the support of the current generation of the Zabini's and the Nott's. It astonished Harry, a little, that they'd be so willing to give them their support. According to Neville, it was a really powerful pledge, to give support to another house without asking for any support in return. And so Harry lessened the strength of their pledge by some complicated acceptance speech that Mary had taught him. Blaise looked rather relieved at that.

Hannah and Susan came in next, and both were really excited to confirm that Harry was okay. They chatted about senseless things for five minutes before running out. Anthony and Kevin came next. Then Su and Terry. Pavarti and Lavender. Wayne and Justin. Daphne and Ernie. Tracey and Millicent. Megan and Sally-Anne. Paradise and Romilda. Harry Bailey and Harry Bellwood. Artemis and Pallas. Gracelyn and Sapphire. Zach Wood and Sebastian. Katie and Queenie. Eliza and Mary. Dakota and Demelza. Able and Kenneth. Eddie and Persephone. Selene and Nora. Julius and Jacob. Fred and George. Alicia and Angelina. Emma and William. Big Sarah and Oliver. And so by the time Hermione and Sarah entered the hospital wing, Harry was exhausted. It had been over two hours, but he was glad that Madam Pomfrey wasn't keeping them away. Hermione and Sarah said hello, added to the pile of goodies, and left immediately, leaving behind good-wishes. It was good to see them. Harry whispered goodnight to those still in the hospital wing – Aurora had never left – and fell asleep.

His nightmares that night blended Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Severus Snape into one horrific villain. He both felt and saw the beatings. The dream refused to fade.


	22. Recklessness

Chapter Twenty-Two

Recklessness

Potions was cancelled for the rest of the week. The aurors returned during breakfast, but this was a different set of aurors and they weren't so forceful. They spoke first to Madam Pomfrey and then Albus Dumbledore before ordering both Pomfrey and Dumbledore to accompany them. No one knew why those two had been chosen or what was under discussion. Everyone just assumed that they were talking about Snape. Harry picked at his breakfast. Dean still hadn't woken up and Pomfrey forbade him from flying that evening.

Harry glanced up and saw Katie looking him. Her eyes were narrowed with effort and she seemed to be concentrating very, very hard. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, drawing blood. Alicia and Angelina were trying to talk with her, trying to stir her, but Katie didn't stir. She just stared at Harry. She knew. He knew. He had to learn to be the best that he could be. He had to learn how to constantly channel that instinctual healing so that people like Dean wouldn't suffer from it. Harry stared down at his right hand. The tips of his fingers were still bandaged. There wasn't any pain, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be able to fix the scars that came from a healing salve mixed with cayenne pepper. Stupid spices.

He looked up again. Sarah Bathsheba was sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Adrianna Sampson. She'd probably hate him for this… Harry got up – by now, most of the people he normally ate with were used to him popping up and down without saying anything – and went over to the Ravenclaw table. Neither Sarah nor Adrianna seemed to notice him until he coughed. "Uh, Sarah?"

She looked up at him, her eyes flashing momentarily to his right hand before returning to his face. "What's up, big Harry?"

"I have to quit the play."

"No," Sarah said, firmly enough. She reached for a bread roll.

"I have—" He couldn't keep talking once Sarah jammed the roll in his mouth and pointed a finger at him, daring him to say a word.

"Nu-huh," Sarah snorted. "You only have to eat that roll and scurry back to your book bag and be sure and come to play rehearsal on Saturday. No one is quitting."

Harry pulled the roll out of his mouth and managed to say, "But—"

Sarah stuffed the roll back on his mouth, twisting his fingers in order to do so. Harry gave up. He rolled his eyes at the seventh year and headed back to the Gryffindor table. Hermione was reading another Annaline Addison article. Little Sarah was studying her charms text. Tracey was arguing with Anthony. Nat Shacklebolt and Artemis Ingraham were sitting across from Sarah, trying to get her to look up from her studying which the Gryffindor did after some prompting. Neville and Theo were aristocratically debating something. There were others scattered around, and Harry knew all of them, he just didn't bother cataloging who was who and who talked with who as he sat down next to Sarah.

"Hey, Harry," Nat started, instantly, "you've got to convince Sarah to come study with us today; she says she's going to spend her Potion's period up in the Gryffindor tower."

"They want to meet in a classroom and do something, like play games," Sarah said, sounding very unsure of herself. "Just second year Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs."

"And not _all_ of them," Artemis clarified, "although if you want to come—"

"I don't want to be an exception," Harry said, smiling. "You should go, Sarah. It'll be fun."

"Okay," Sarah said, looking from Harry to Artemis and Nat.

Harry finished eating the roll that big Sarah and stuffed in his mouth and pulled out _The Return of the King _from his bag beside Sarah's feet. He glanced at the staff table; everyone was there but Trelawney, Binns, and Remus. Why was—oh, right. Harry buried his nose in his book, but not before seeing Vicky Frobisher sitting along (at the Hufflepuff table, for some reason). No… he didn't… he really, really didn't… Harry put his book back in his bag and headed over to sit down next to Vicky. She looked utterly dejected. "Hey," Harry said, plopping down next to her, "you okay?"

"_I'm_ fine," Vicky said. Her stressing of the word was a little worrisome. "Professor Lupin isn't," she continued, her voice hissing through clenched teeth.

"What do you mean?" Harry had a very real suspicion that he knew exactly what she was talking about. The full moon was that night.

Vicky bit into a sausage and chewed heavily, not answering.

"Victoria…"

"Fine," she grumbled, swallowing her mouthful. "I'm only allowed to see my dad for half of the year. _Half_ of the year, all because of some ministerial decree about werewolves and kids." Oh, Harry thought, wondering if it was obvious or if he was just daft. "Half a year," Vicky continued, "I can't see him in the week before or the week after a full moon. So why is it that our professor is ill on the full moon? That can't be a coincidence!"

There was no one close enough to hear her rant. Harry stared at her with no clue what to say. The girl was the mad. No, Vicky was beyond mad. He tried to put himself in her situation but really couldn't. She obviously loved her dad, who was obviously a werewolf, but what would make her mad at their professor? Was it because she'd seen him in the week leading up to a full moon and she didn't get that chance with her dad? Or something else? "I don't know, Vicky," Harry said, truthfully. He really would have to ask Aurora how he should this situation later.

"I could see my dad longer if he had access to the wolfsbane potion," Vicky pouted, biting down on her sausage again.

Harry immediately resolved to ask Remus what the wolfsbane potion was, how accessible it was, and how he could get it Vicky's dad. But… Hermione was looking fit to kill again back at the Gryffindor table. He'd better make sure that Tracey didn't accentuate whatever was bugging his friend. Gah. He really wished for once that he didn't _care_ so much about his friends' feelings and everything. It was very, very frustrating to be constantly wanted to appease and comfort and protect and… _stop whining_, Harry ordered himself. He loved his life. He loved his friends. He'd never want to stop protecting them. "What's your dad's name?" Harry asked, somewhat absent-mindedly.

"Herman Frobisher," Vicky finished her sausage and stood. "I'm heading back to the common room." She left.

Harry darted his way back to the middle of the Gryffindor table and slid back into his seat between Hermione and Sarah. Hermione was stewing. As soon as he sat down, Hermione slapped the latest Addison article in front of his nose. "Do you know how behind wizard society is of muggle society? In a poll that Addison took of purebloods and up, less than a forth of them knew that normal people had been to the moon!"

Tracey and the other students had all stopped their conversation and were watching Harry, as if wondering what his reaction would be. "Do you know, Hermione," Harry said, evenly, "the percentage of muggles that know that wizards exist?" She opened her mouth. Her face turned red. Harry could see she wanted to scream at him. "It's not _bad_, Hermione. Sure, it would be great if a greater understanding was fostered between magic and non-magic, but this inexperience with each other isn't all that detrimental! Hermione, when did muggles make it to the moon?"

"1969—"

"Neville," Harry barreled on, before Hermione could interrupt his speech, "when did wizards make it to the moon?"

"1493," He said, rather confused. "It was a Native American shaman or something like that. He went because he was scared and curious and then came back and wrote a book about it."

"1493?" Hermione screeched, incredulous.

The purebloods and higher looked at her, all utterly confused.

Harry started laughing. "Look, Hermione, you're looking at things from a muggleborn's point of view, and there's nothing wrong with that. Neville and Tracey and Anthony here are looking at things with a pureblood point of view. And there's nothing wrong with that either! It's okay to be aloof from muggles! We live in two totally different societies."

"But that's _Slytherin talk__!_" Hermione said. The words were already out of her mouth before she realized what she said and tried to choke back the words. "I'm sor—" It wasn't Tracey or Theo or the nearby Slytherins that were offended.

Harry stood, slowly, and stared down at his longest, closest friend. "No. It's not. Haven't you gotten over that _stupid_ bias yet? Can't everyone just _get over themselves_?" He didn't want to be here right now. He wanted to be in the library or Aurora's office or somewhere that wasn't crowded and had eyes watching him. He didn't like the eyes. He didn't like how the eyes questioned and condemned and praised and assumed and… how each pair of eyes represented an actual person. "It's times like this, Hermione," Harry's voice was deadly quite, "and only times like this – when people give into a bias that only compounds the problem that they're trying to rail against – that I wished I'd never come into this society. Because you're right. We're a messed up society. But magic and its culture is a whole lot better than most of the rest of it out there." He grabbed his book bag and stomped away.

"Harry, that was mean," Sarah said, to his back.

"He's right," Hermione's rebuttal came, quickly after what Sarah said. "He's right and I was… incorrect." She hated to admit that she was wrong.

Harry kept walking. He'd hurt his friend. His friend had _admitted_ that she was _wrong._ Hermione never did that! Harry didn't stop walking until he reached Professor Babbling's office. The teacher wasn't there, but the hallway was thankfully empty. Harry slid down to the floor and buried himself in his language textbook, because when he thought about the words and societies of cultures long past or unswervingly foreign, he didn't have to worry about his own problems. Part of him wished Tonks was around; he wanted to be able to master all that magic that he could _do_ but he couldn't do. It didn't make any sense. Harry raised his hand in front of him face and focused on trying to change the lengths of his fingers. It didn't _work!_ He'd taken the bandages off his fingers; the tips of three of his right hand fingers had fascinating red scars on them. He'd study those later.

He could remember the feeling of the magic coursing through him whenever he tried to change around Tonks. He could picture that clearly; he could feel it clearly; but he couldn't channel it! It was a spell he couldn't master. A potion he couldn't grasp. It was utterly infuriating! He didn't want to be limited like this. He wanted to learn. He wanted to excel. He wanted to be able to repel a dementor. Harry looked down at his watch; there was a good half an hour before his first class of the day. The boy pushed himself up off the floor and sprinted for the grounds of the castle. His feet carried him over the quickest route to the edge of castle grounds, where he knew there would be a dementor. It was a gray day; drab and dark, with a few rain drops sprinkling over the quickly freezing November earth. It was cold, yes, but Harry didn't stop to think about that. He reached the edge of the grounds.

There was only one dementor that floated nearby, and that dementor glided towards Harry almost instantly. Harry pointed his wand at the beast. He could hear his mother screaming his mind. He could clearly see his Aunt and Uncle loaming over him, with frying pan and belt. He could clearly see the broken, beaten bodies of his friends. "_Expecto patronum!_" Harry shrieked, focusing on the first time he rode a broom and how fabulous it felt to fly. A sliver of gray mist game from his wand, but it dissipated, almost immediately. "_Expecto patronum!"_ Harry cried again, letting the joy of flight wash over him and combat the dark, horrifying thoughts. Orion didn't come… It didn't work. It still didn't work!

"_Expecto patronum!_" This time, Harry thought about his wand and the power he'd felt when he first touched it. Hermione had yet to name the majestic phoenix. Harry had taken to calling it Bob as he waited for her to choose a name. There was another burst of silver mist, slightly stronger this time, but the dementor rolled straight through it. It reached out a scaly, skeletal hand, and touched Harry on the shoulder.

His mother's screams got louder. The frying pan struck. The belt cracked. Quirrell died. He fell. Ginny; beaten, broken, so close to death. Hermione, petrified. Everything… it scared him.

Harry collapsed in an unconscious heap.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry didn't show for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Hermione wasn't particularly worried; the Headmaster was covering for Lupin, and she knew that Professor Sinistra had been actively trying to keep Harry away from the Headmaster. It was a fascinating lecture; Dumbledore was a great teacher.

Harry didn't show for Arithmancy. Hermione and Seamus panicked. He hadn't been in DADA, and Harry wouldn't miss Runes unless he was forced to… And it didn't help that out the window, they could see Hedwig flapping about, rather frenetically. When Arithmancy ended, Pavarti, Hermione and Seamus took off running for the Astronomy Tower. The three students found Aurora Sinistra at about the same time that Hedwig did. After that, it took a good few minutes before Aurora managed to break through the chatter, learn what was going on, and send Hermione and Seamus on to Transfiguration. Pavarti would be the fastest runner if something needed to be fetched. Hedwig was a crazy bird, constantly veering towards the window like she wanted to be followed. It gave Aurora the horrible idea that Harry had gone outside.

She and Pavarti followed Hedwig out of the castle and towards the edge of the grounds. Harry wouldn't have. He knew how the dementors affected him. He wouldn't have been so reckless! There weren't any dementors around. Sinistra was grateful for that; her patronus charm was never really strong enough to repel one. And, sure enough, Hedwig alit on the ground by the still form of her little charge. In seconds, Aurora had sent Pavarti to go get Madam Pomfrey and the girl took off like a rocket. Harry was alive, Aurora managed to assess, but he was cold; so, so cold. Aurora cast a few broadband warming charms, but nothing on Harry himself. She cast her patronus, but it only hovered around in a dull mist as she worked. She conjured a blanket and cast a warming charm on that, before rolling Harry onto it so he wouldn't touch the ground. He'd only been out of the hospital wing for a couple of hours! What had caused him to be this _reckless?!_

Hedwig hooted softly. She combed her beak through Harry's hair. The owl truly was his familiar, Aurora decided, which only gave credence to her having the knowledge to condemn Albus for the memory charm. Which scared her. It scared her a lot. It took nearly ten minutes before Pavarti and Poppy reached the edge of the grounds. There had been no change in Harry.

Poppy didn't say anything, but Aurora could tell she was terrified over the cold little bundle of Harry Potter. The mediwitch wrapped Harry up in the blanket, cast her own warming charms, and headed back for the castle. Aurora – reluctantly – knew that Poppy could do her job and she had to do her job. She escorted Pavarti to her Transfiguration classroom. While the class was busy, she pulled Minerva out of the classroom and informed her about Harry's location. The Transfiguration teacher paled, bit her lip, and seemed to quiver for a long moment before regaining control of herself and returning to her classroom to assuage the fears of her anxious Gryffindors. Dean was still in the hospital wing and Harry hadn't been around all morning, from their perspectives. Hermione had been frantic…

Aurora headed back for the hospital wing, half hoping that Poppy hadn't succeeded in waking Harry up yet. She didn't want to deal with him at the moment. She didn't want to comfort or scold or whatever he'd need. She didn't want to be the guardian when it came to things like this. But when she stepped into the infirmary antechamber, she could already hear Poppy and Harry fighting, with Dean interjecting a few comments here or there. She pushed open the door and stepped inside. Harry was sitting on the bed, his arms crossed, glaring at the mediwitch who was busy reprimanding him for going anywhere near the dementors without adequate protection. Harry just looked… resentful. She'd never seen him look so resentful.

"Oh good," Harry noticed her first, "can you please tell Madam Pomfrey that I'm _fine!_ I'm missing classes!"

"Why'd you go outside?" Aurora asked, not saying yay or nay.

"I needed the patronus charm to work," Harry said, quietly. She sat at his side and waited for him to explain further. "Everything I try, everything I can do around Tonks, or around Katie, or even sometimes not around Katie, I need to control that. I need to be able to handle this stuff! And if I can't use a patronus charm against an actual dementor, what good is it to be able to cast multiple ones! It's all _rubbish_ if I can't fight back a dementor."

"That doesn't mean you go looking for one!"

"I need practice!"

"You need to be a student, a normal student!"

"I'm not normal!" Harry screeched. "I'll never be normal. I _don't have magic!_" Neither Dean nor Poppy had heard this before; they both inhaled and stared at the astronomy teacher and her charge. "And I need to learn how to control this magic that I do… leech… from other people! I need to!"

"Yes," Aurora said, her jaw narrowing, "under a controlled environment. You _can't_ go near the dementors, Harry!"

"Then let me learn!" Harry shouted. "Let me help people!"

"You were _so_ reckless today," Aurora said, her voice raised, just slightly. "You were stupid."

"I'm a Gryffindor," Harry spat.

"That doesn't define you! Harry, you're losing sight of goal of not defining who you are by what _house_ you're in!"

Harry stewed. "I want to go to class."

"You can go to charms," Aurora replied, waspishly, "and if you magically survive that, you won't have to be confined to the infirmary for a week. Harry, you're still stupid. Poppy is a much better judge of your capabilities to handle magic and learning then you'll be for a long time yet. _Listen_ to her."

"But—"

"_Listen._" Aurora commanded, raising her voice just a little higher.

The boy slouched back on the bed, his green eyes dancing with anger and restless energy. "Then I want my books."

"Where's your bag?"

"Probably in the Runes hallway," Harry said, shrugging.

"If I get it for you, will you stay in the hospital wing until Madam Pomfrey releases you?"

He bit his lip and shrugged again. "Yeah."

"Good." Aurora left, stomping from the infirmary.

Harry and Poppy could see the anger rolling off her in barely controlled waves, but Dean didn't seem to notice. The injured Gryffindor grinned at his roommate. "There's some downsides to having a parent, eh Harry?"

Harry shrugged again. Poppy handed him a glass vial with a potion in it; Harry downed it instantly, even if he did so in a rebellious manner. He did not want to be controlled. He wanted to be free. He listened to Dean chat at him for a few moments, all the while waiting for Aurora to get back with his books. He currently was reading Able's _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4_, Katie's _Complex Brewing for the Competent Student_, and Mary's very unused copy of _Defensive Magic: Protect Yourself and Others_. They were all in his book bag, along with _Grade 3,_ his language text, and his Arithmany and Potions textbooks. If it weren't for Snape, Harry would probably have loved Potions. There were a lot of books once you started reading the textbooks from students in other years; he'd have to get Sarah and the others to teach him what Lupin was teaching them. His beginning DADA teachers were worthless.

"Harry," he vaguely heard Dean say, "What are you doing?"

"Plotting," Harry replied, shifted his position into something more comfortable.

"Oh. Plotting what?"

"My eventual takeover of the world.

"…Harry…?"

"Dean, it's a _joke._"

Dean sniggered slightly. "Can I be your minion?"

"Sure."

"Awesome."

"Awesome." Harry parroted Dean's word back at him, not really sure of how to respond. It was times like these that he really, really, really didn't understand other people.


	23. Shopping is Easy When You Own

Chapter Twenty-Three

Shopping is Easy When You Own the Company

There's not much funnier than watching four eleven and twelve year old girls fight over something in the middle of a public area. Still, Harry wished the ground would open up and swallow him as Lily Cooper, Astoria Greengrass, Diana Wood and Ruby Martin (who Harry really did not know) argued about which house he belonged in. They made quite a spectacle, each providing examples and reasons as to why Harry was more like a Hufflepuff or more like a Gryffindor or more like a Ravenclaw or more like a Slytherin.

He barely knew Diana. She seemed to be mostly pulling stories from Paradise and Oliver. Astoria spoke from experience garnered from her sister and – Harry decided – stalkerish levels of observation. As for Ruby… well, the girl he didn't know pulled from a whole lot of sources and her argument was probably one of the best rounded. She was the Ravenclaw of the group, after all.

It was Emma who, after twenty minutes of the girls screaming at each other, got up and sat the four girls down and led a whispered conversation with them. Five minutes after that, nearly the whole Great Hall was watching when Lily Cooper got to her feet, flicked her black hair from one shoulder to another and coughed out: "Due to recent events and the feelings of all in this institution—" she stumbled over that word "—we have decided to announce that H.J. Potter-Moorland-Aragon-something-something-or-other—" snickers filled the hall "—shall be hereby granted the title of Gryffindor-Slyvenpuff, for he has been granted honorary status among the three houses to which he was not assigned." Lily flounced back to the tables.

Harry spewing pumpkin juice all over the table distracted people so much that no one saw the almost immeasurable increase in the angry twinkle of Albus Dumbledore's pale blue eyes. Cheers filled the rest of the house.

That was when Ruby hopped up. "And the Ravenclaws are extending the rights of our house to Hermione Granger, as a Gryffindor-claw." Some cheers for Hermione, mostly from Su and the other third years. And Kenneth.

That reminded Harry that he still needed to talk with Kenneth. After he paid him back for the skit. After… yeah. So much to do. So little time. And Kenneth, Lee, Fred and George were still blatantly avoiding him.

After breakfast, the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff 3rd years walked as a pretty communal group out the greenhouses for a double Herbology class. They spent all morning together, what with a double DADA class period following the first lesson. Professor Sprout had elevated Neville, Sally-Anne and Hannah into a more advanced growing class and she let Harry and Hermione work with them most of the time. Hermione found herself growing increasingly frustrated when plants didn't response to her like they would for the other four. It was that day when the fourteen other students watched Hermione approach their teacher and request to return to working primarily with the other class. She looked as if she was eating lemons, the way she reacted so negatively to admitting that she wouldn't always be the best.

All fourteen other students, including Ron, cheered for her.

It only made Hermione feel even worse. "Why?" Not many heard her say it. Only Harry, Neville and a few of the nearest Hufflepuffs.

"Because you're a genius, Hermione," Harry said, "but even geniuses have to learn their limits, and for you, this a great accomplishment. Acknowledging that you can't do everything... We're all proud of you." It didn't hurt that Professor Sprout then invented some inane reason to give Gryffindor ten points. They didn't care so much about the House Cup, but _still_, it made Hermione feel good.

Wednesday mornings were some of the best. Even if Harry had to deal with the teasing over being accepted as a member of everyone else's houses by a group of first year girls (like, you know, _totally_), it was good fun. And it was with the Hufflepuffs! Lavender and Pavarti got along well enough with the four Hufflepuff girls, but they were starting to seem a little lost without their trio member of Daphne Greengrass. Ron and Ernie and Dean and Seamus stuck together, with the three Gryffindors accepting the Hufflepuff... not seamlessly, but it was close. And then Professor Lupin complained that he hated splitting the class up into groups, because no matter what he did, they'd all be friends. He'd termed Harry, Hermione, Neville, Hannah, Susan, Megan, Sally-Anne, Justin, and Wayne nearly inseparable.

It was weird, Harry thought, but when he actually did think about it, they were some of his closest friends. He knew them. He knew surface details, but then he knew surface details about nearly everyone know. But he also knew their dreams.

Hermione, before she knew of magic, had dreams of being a lawyer. After learning about magic, her whole outlook on life had changed and she hadn't decided what she wanted to do. At least, beyond helping the house elves, she'd always said. Neville wanted nothing more than to turn the House of Longbottom into the most successful of the England's farming houses. Sally-Anne had once dreamed of being a dancer, but she'd had to give that up when she was nine because of a bad fall that had injured her knee, back and neck. She'd spent five days in the hospital before being told she could never safely dance again.

Susan was determined to start an orphanage. Hannah was determined to start an orphanage. The two girls had been best friends for years. It was actually amazing that they disagreed over the type of orphanage that they wanted to build. Wayne, before learning about magic, had been on course to be a professional footballer. He did confess, however, that that had been his fathers' dream. Privately – and to Harry – Wayne just wanted to be content. Megan want sail and travel and dream and write and see the world. Ron was Ron. Dean wanted to be an artist and somehow bend magic and his painting and other forms of art all together, creating things that had never been created. Seamus had no aspirations beyond living a good life, being successful and happy. Lavender wanted to own Which Witch Weekly. Pavarti's ambitions, in the group of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff 3rd years were probably the saddest. She had none. She knew that she was the second daughter of a righteous Hindu family and to her father, she was nothing more than a bargaining chip. So she never let herself dream. And that… well… Harry wanted to fix that, but he didn't know _how._

"Harry, can you answer the question?"

Harry blinked. Right. DADA. He'd been thinking about his classmates and Pavarti's situation… "Possibly. Not at this moment."

Professor Lupin smirked. He looked rather exhausted, but Harry knew that was only because of the recent full moon. "The proper way of approaching a dangerous situation?"

"Run away and scream for help?" Harry said, saying what he'd to. What he wished he had done first year with Quirrel and the stone. He had done it, sort of, second year. And then that hadn't worked and he'd still been an idiot and faced down a sixty-foot basilisk with nothing more than a phoenix and a sword. Siiiiigh.

Lupin snorted. "Not a hundred percent applicable, but correct as a very vague suggestion."

And so their DADA class continued on and on. Normally it was pretty good, but with Lupin so exhausted it wasn't as great as it could have been. And Harry was struggling to pay attention. He _knew_ most of this stuff. He knew how to approach uncertain circumstances. He'd survived things that his fellow classmates hadn't. He was the _best_ in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Which… arrogance alert, Harry muttered to himself, not letting anyone else hear him. He wasn't arrogant. He really wasn't. It was just… _focus…!_

After class, Harry persuaded his various friends to go on to lunch while he stayed and talked with Professor Lupin. When Hermione finally left, Harry approached their professor. "Professor, can you tell me about wolfsbane?" Lupin stiffened. Unnaturally so. Did he not know that Harry knew that…? "Professor Sinistra told me about you, and well, Vicky Frobisher's dad is as well, and I wanted to look into providing him with wolfsbane, like, the potion. So, do you know much it costs or how accessible it is?"

Lupin blinked. "It's a very expensive, inaccessible potion, Harry." His voice was clipped and nervous sounding. "Supplying for a whole year costs upwards of five hundred galleons."

Even Harry gaped at that number. His Hogwarts tuition was about five hundred galleons. He knew his allowance to Paradise was exceptionally high, but _still, five hundred a year?_ "Would it be possible to supply it only for the summer, when Vicky is home with her parents?"

"Yes," Lupin said, "although that would create for some dangerous transformations during the rest of the year." The professor still hadn't processed the fact that Harry knew about his lycanthrope and didn't seem bothered at all. It was… weird. "Lunar magic becomes even more dangerous after it's been controlled."

Harry bit his lip. "Are you a lunar wizard?"

Lupin didn't know how to answer that. He could lie and abide by ministerial degree or he could lose Harry's trust. Thankfully, he didn't particularly have to answer the question.

"I've been researching it, ever since Professor Sinistra kind of mentioned it, but I haven't found much. Just that it's one of those things classified as Dark Arts and you need a permit to study it. And some of what it does," Harry said, thoughtfully, "but still, not a lot. Why's lunar magic normally considered dark and solar magic light?"

Lupin didn't know how to answer that. He didn't have to.

"It doesn't make sense," Harry complained, not pausing. "I looked at solar magic too; it seemed like it could cause more pain than lunar. But then, it sort of delves into what a Dark Art is and, you know, Professor Lupin, the ministry's classification of stuff doesn't make sense." He stopped talking and just stared at the floor, quiet. "Magic is wonderful, you know, but I wish it was easier to understand."

And with that, Harry spun and strode from the classroom, leaving Lupin standing, stone-still, still trying to figure out what was going on. He wasn't entirely successful.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry ate lunch with a conglomeration of Slytherins. It wasn't all that odd, except for the fact that Selene, Persephone, Tracey, Millicent, Theodore, and Blaise were with different groups. That was odd. Still, Harry found his circular table of seven others – Emma and a few other transfiguration geniuses had changed the long house tables into a bunch of eight seat-er circle tables. It was pretty cool. And so Harry joined a table of Zachary Wood, Gracelyn Zale, Daphne Franklin, Astoria Greengrass, Peter Nott, Sebastian Urguhart and his younger brother Kingston. They'd been entering the Hall around the same time he did, so it was easy enough just to slip into their group.

The younger Daphne – a first year – had yet to manage a full sentence around Harry without blushing and stuttering. Peter was likewise rather bashful, but the others were great. Harry really enjoyed hanging out with Zachary. The youngest Wood boy was energetic, funny, and willing to try anything when he was dared. Harry had _yet_ to see a Slytherin side to him, which he found very, very frustrating. Kingston, first year, was having trouble with DADA, so Harry spent quite a lot of time trying to teach him _petrificus to__talus_. Peter, again a first year, was very busily listening in, so Harry specifically worked with his problems.

They ate and talked and Zach kept everyone amused by poking fun at Astoria's handwriting and Harry's messy hair. There could be no doubt that Zach would be a well-groomed ladies-man the older he got. Harry decided – judging on the way Daphne refused to move beyond three feet away from the kid – that he might be starting rather early. It was sort of amusing.

A few desserts had just come out to the table when David Summerby approached their table, grabbed Harry's arm, sprouting thank-yous like there was no end, swore his undying allegiance, before standing up and walking swiftly away. Harry immediately noticed an increase to Dumbledore's already shining eye-twinkle. What the-?

"Did he just?" That was Sebastian.

"He did!" That was Peter.

"Wow." That was Gracelyn.

"You have a subject!" That was Zach, laughing.

Harry still couldn't muster up the courage or wherewithal to actually speak. Well. Not beyond a word or so. "What?"

Astoria narrowed her eyes at him. "You don't get what happened?"

"No…"

"You've got a serf," Astoria said, shrugging. "It's not that uncommon, actually. Lily Cooper's mum swore that oath to my mum, mostly to get out of a marriage she wanted to avoid. We've got a couple other serfs spread out throughout the family too." Her words were perfunctory. "The oaths aren't in anyway hereditary; it's not like Lily belongs to my older sister or whatever."

Harry nodded his head to her in appreciation of the explanation. "Do I have any responsibilities towards him?" He wished it hadn't happened, but he'd figured because of how utterly aristocratic the wizard world was, he wouldn't bother asking if it could be annulled. He didn't particularly want a serf or servant or whatever, but if David wanted it—

"No. Well, he's under your protection now." Sebastian now. "But that particular loyalty oath greatly benefits the one who received it. What did you do to deserve that?"

"Oh _great_," Harry grumbled. He ignored Sebastian's question. It wasn't necessary to actually explain and he was confident enough that the Urquhart would understand. His mind was still reeling. "So, what just happened?"

The – at the time – evil little Slytherins just laughed at him.

_Curse them._

o.o.o.o.o.o

Friday evening.

"Harry, that's not normal." Hermione.

"Yes it is." Neville.

Huff. Hermione.

"Could we please just forget about this?" Harry.

"No." Hermione, Neville and Able.

"It's kind of funny." Sarah.

"Can we like… skip this whole rest of the week?" Harry.

"No." Hermione. "Then I'd miss all my classes!"

"Oh, yeah, how are you getting to all of those classes?" Harry.

Silence.

Harry looked up from his cross-course essay talking about the various potions that the plants they were currently studying in Herbology were good for. Hermione had actually stopped writing; her pen was actually quivering a little over her already lengthy essay. Her eyes were lowered, and he perceived a little shake in her normally resolute shoulders. It was so out of character that the other three all noticed. "Hermione?"

She swallowed. "McGonagall says I can't tell you." It came out as more of a whimper than any real sort of answer. "But… but I think I'm doing too much."

"What's wrong?"

"Well, it was the same in the other reality," Hermione said, still holding her quill suspended, "but there I didn't handle it so well. Still, what with the magic crew for the play and all, I'm feeling… overworked."

Neville put down his Standard Book of Spells and studied his friend. "You voluntarily moved down in Herbology. Is this part of the reason?"

"Yeah," Hermione murmured, shrugging. "And that I really, really don't like that class." She made a face. The others grinned at her. Affronted, Hermione snarled, "What? It's dirty, somewhat boring, and – excepting Magical Creatures which just has to be the worst – is the closest thing to PE that this school has!"

Able out-right snickered. "You do realize that your best friend is on one of the Quidditch teams _and_ he's started attending morning workout sessions?"

"It's a good idea!" Harry defended, chewing on the end of his quill while he struggled to figure out how to conclude the essay. "Besides, it helps me get to know Theo, Blaise, Justin and Wayne better."

"It's really just the five of you?" Sarah asked, suspicious. "What do you do?"

"Run the halls; although, we've only met twice though." Harry said, as he figured out the wording for a particularly annoying sentence. "No one's sure if it's going to become a regular morning thing."

Hermione snorted. "And people think _I'm_ overworked."

An owl and a package – both on the shoulder of Temperance Regan – arrived for Harry. "You know," Hermione said, rather annoyed, "people are supposed to get mail in the morning."

Harry accepted the package from Temperance, shared a quick, secretive smirk with her (at Hermione's expense), and laid the unopened packet in the middle of the table. He finished his essay, studiously ignoring the questioning looks and downright inquiries. No; they'd hear the proper announcement along with everyone else. Actually, it was rather surprising that they'd made it to the release date with only him, Temperance and Chastity actually knowing when that date _was_. Sure, Mary and Neville – as his unofficial advisors – knew about the clothing line, but they didn't know it was in production already.

He was actually excited to look at the samples that Temperance's dad had sent him, a day before the official release. Oh, sure, he'd seen all the various pieces of clothing and downright vetoed any Harry Potter underwear, but he'd actually be wearing it tomorrow. And once _that_ news hit the press, well, it would be publicity enough for this brand of clothes. When Mr. Regan had told him that, Harry had pinched himself repeatedly. It was sort of ugly, thinking of just how much he could influence the little things like fashion. Well, at least it was good practice in case he ever needed to influence things on a larger scale.

"You're not going to tell us, are you?" Able said, sighing.

"Hang on," Neville said, "that was—"

"Shush."

"Oh!"

And so Neville knew. Well, as long as he didn't tell Mary there was a slim chance that this wasn't going to make it out public before the Prophet announced it. "Don't tell Mary," Harry warned.

"'Course," Neville said, unrolling a piece of parchment and inking a quill.

Hermione huffed. "I hate you. I hate you both."

"Don't whine," Sarah said, moodily. She was fiddling around with a few colored pencils, mostly because as she had no electives – even if she did have more periods of each core class – the net result was she had a lot less homework to keep her busy than the others did. Translation: she couldn't figure out what to draw or do and she was _bored_.

"Besides," Harry complained, "you'll find out tomorrow."

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry met Justin, Wayne and Theo on Saturday morning in black athletic pants and a pale green light-weight exercise shirt that had a stylized black lightning bolt on it. None of the boys commented on it. He was pretty sure Blaise would have inquired, but the Slytherin had declined to show up that morning. It was not required on the weekends that the uniform was worn, but a lot of people wore it just for convenience. Still, Harry was grateful after his exercise that the additions to his wardrobe would not catch too much attention. At least immediately.

He changed into everyday black slacks and a bottle green – he really was going to get sick of green very quickly – button down shirt, with a swash of other vibrant colors running through the fabric, which was accented by a black and gold tie. He didn't actually tie the tie, but left it hanging down both sides of the collar. Had he actually tied the tie, it would have come out in a zig-zag, lightning shape. That was actually one of his favorite parts… The outfit went with a smart black hat and a jacket that could be worn in a choice of any hue of green, black, white, brown, or gold. He chose a somber brown color that somehow managed to accent the tie. Lastly, he got Neville to sneak a green colored pencil from Sarah's book-bag and transfigured that into a greenish plant garland that he rested on the brim of his hat.

And, of course, he didn't realize until he was done that he'd spent half-an-hour primping himself out.

That was really not cool.

Still… he did like the look…

With black shoes laced in place, Harry and Neville headed for breakfast, arriving late for their normal time, but rather early for Saturday breakfasters in general. The Prophet hadn't been delivered yet. Still… Demelza, Dakota, Queenie and Katie took great pleasure in making Harry sit with them so that they could critique and compliment his semi-messed up style of dress. Still… it made Harry _very_ self-conscious to be sitting around while wearing clothes embellished with his scar.

He was beginning to think this was a very… very… very bad idea.

Temperance and Chastity Regan were sitting together at the Hufflepuff table, right at Harry's back. It was like they'd purposefully positioned themselves so as not to miss the show. _Great… _Wait. What? The tables had been changed back to the house tables. Where'd the circle tables go?

A very unawake Mary MacDonald and a far too chipper Eliza Kirke joined Harry and the fourth year girls just as the mail began arriving. Neither seemed to notice Harry's attire. Of their particular group, they only received three Daily Prophets, so Harry just sunk lower and lower in his seat as wind-blown owl delivered the newspaper to Mary. She took it unceremoniously, paid the owl, and started eating her cereal.

Across the hall, somewhere from the Slytherin side of the things, a girl squealed. Harry took a big bite of cereal and chewed.

"_What?!_" Hermione's screech was distinctive.

Curious now, the fourth year Gryffindors looked up from their breakfasts to see more and more girls disappearing behind their daily newspaper. Harry, dread growing greater and greater in his stomach, watched as Mary snatched up her copy of the newspaper and looked at the headline: _Har__ry Potter: Fashion Express._ She looked at her pupil, and then back at the paper before letting out a squeal of her own.

The article outlined the release of the new: Potter Fashion for Every Occasion. It also wrote that to receive a copy of a magazine devoted to this clothline, owl the appropriate clothing line or visit the stores, locations in Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and the Liverpool Magical Quarter. Harry – in his package – had received a copy of said magazine. Under Temperance's guidance, Harry had secretly modeled the first samples that Julius had sent his daughter and employer and they'd returned pictures of Harry – in the clothing – to the company. Julius's other daughter – Harry thought her name was Hope or something – was a squib, and so she modeled most of the other pictures for the magazine. It actually worked – as a magazine – really, really well.

As news spread – even affecting some of the boys – Harry leaned behind him and gave Temperance a high-five. Chastity smirked at them. All three were happy. The projected profits from this line were incredibly high (and Harry had just starting paying their dad an additional percentage).

By the end of the day, owls were flying towards the company carrying requests for the magazine. One owl even carried four separate requests, as several people didn't have owls and begged their friends to let them send in requests with said friend's owl.

After seeing the initial reaction, Harry grabbed little Sarah (somehow the only girl maintaining any semblance of sanity) and fled to Sinistra's rooms, staying out of sight for as much as he could.

Play practice was torture.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o

November rolled away in a mass of classes, extra studies, play rehearsals, inter-house Quidditch practices, study groups, friends, novels, sleep, and a dramatic increase in wealth for the Regan's. Harry's increase in riches was just as sizable but not nearly as noticeable. Potter Fashion for Every Occasion began popping up all over the place, and – to Harry's utter mortification – their replacement Potion's Professor arrived wearing one of the signature robes. That Professor, one Mr. Daryl Rhythm, immediately started fighting Professor Vector for the position of #1 Staff Harry Potter fan.

Professor Rhythm wasn't even that great a teacher, but everyone did notice an increase in their potion's ability; the fifth years all thanked their lucky stars that Snape had left. And the mainline Slytherins all rejoiced when Madame Hooch took over as their head of house. Well, the ten ostracized students all hated it, but Hooch made rather good head of house, or so Tracey and the rest of his Slytherin friends said.

The third weekend of November, the first officially scheduled Quidditch match took place between Gryffindor and Slytherin. It was a bit of joke. The Slytherin team had been struggling after Flint, Montague, Higgs and Malfoy were removed from the team: Flint by Deputy Headmistress Mandate and the other three by Hooch and popular opinion. Hooch also removed Adrian Pucey and Daniel Bole for "being an impossible players to work with." As such, the Slytherin team morphed into, on average, the youngest current team. Zachary Wood, Sapphire Vaisey and Sebastian Urquhart made up the Chaser trio. Hezekiah Derrick (a 7th year and the only upper classman) stayed on as Keeper. Harriett Patterson (to her grandmother's pride and dismay) paired with Blaise Zabini as Beaters. Second year Franklin Harper played Seeker.

The weather was absolutely awful. Harry struggled to control his Nimbus; it rocked and rolled and threatened to spin out of control. Harper, while larger than Harry, was less experienced and skilled, so he flew nearly aimlessly, just fighting with the winds and rain to stay in the pitch. It was nearly impossible for Harry to see the others, but in the few glimpses he did manage to catch, even Katie was struggling with her broom. Sebastian – the only player actually smaller than Harry – had massive problems. He barely touched the quaffle at all, only managing to block a few passes. Harriet was too small to control both broom and bat, but the bludgers would get driven so off-course by the wind that they barely played a role in the game.

Few spectators had shown up, mostly due to the weather and the fact that Quidditch games were now almost common. It was probably pretty good; Harry had no idea where the snitch was. And given how the rain lanced against his face and practically blinded him, he didn't foresee any change.

Sometimes, he caught a glimmer and managed to push his broom approximately in that direction, but the glimmer would disappear or turn out not to be a glimmer at all. Somehow, the Gryffindor girls racked up a 200 goal lead in the first hour, while Oliver kept the Slytherins to only one goal. Harry thought that Sapphire scored it, but he couldn't hear, he couldn't see, the rain had long ago soaked him through and…

The dementors were nearby.

Harry was hovering just above a struggling Harriett when he first felt them. He knew they'd been on the pitch before, but surely Dumbledore had some safe-guards in place to keep them away. The old man was awful, most times, but he wasn't… idiotic. Squinting, Harry could see Harriett look around, shivering even more than before. The bat slipped from her hands and she just _looked_ terrified.

A cloaked dementor then another and another and another ghosted down on the two fliers, mouths open, skeletal hands out-stretched. Harriett screamed. Harry fumbled for his wand; he'd tucked it in his jersey. A dementor swooped around him, knocking into his broom, flipping him upside down. Harry grasped the broom handle with both hands. The wand was knocked free. _No. No!_ He caught the tip, just managed to whisper to fated words, and the wand jerked free. It plummeted.

A failed mission, test, experience…

A woman's scream…

A green light…

A frying pan…

A screamed profanity…

A spider… a pig…

A dead friend…

A dead sister…

Of being without magic…

Of pain…

Another of Harriett's screams managed to penetrate Harry's hazy mind. It sounded distant. Like it came through water. Something jabbed one of Harry's fingers. It felt like a splinter. Or something.

And then there was nothing but weightlessness.

Falling…

And fear.


	24. Control

Chapter Twenty-Four

Control

Harry woke singing.

He woke to a cluster of people, all crowded around him.

When he woke, he made eye-contact with Angelina Johnson.

In the millisecond after he woke, Katie Bell screamed.

Angelina stiffened, frozen, the paralyzed statue that so many Hogwarts students had learned to fear. People screamed and dived out of the way. Harry, still barely conscious, snapped shut his eyes. The ethereal music continued, emitting not from Harry's mouth but from his being.

"Harry?" That was Madam Pomfrey. "Tell me what you feel."

The boy whimpered some, not daring to open his eyes. "Angie?"

Aurora had caught the petrified student as the Quidditch player started to tip… tip… tip… There could be no doubt about those assembled that Harry had petrified her. It'd been just when he woke; just when they made eye contact. "Miss Johnson will be all right," Pomfrey said, gesturing for Aurora and the Weasley twins to move the girl to the next bed while she laid a hand on Harry's sweat soaked forward. He hadn't been showing signs of fever before he woke…

Harry coughed twice, hacking, painful. "Hurts," he admitted. "Hurts like stone and fire are fighting within me."

Poppy cast a quick diagnostic charm on her most frequent patient. It glowed; three twisted white lines: negative. Another diagnostic charm and an orange stream of magic twisted through the air and formed a simple rune: high fever.

"Basilisk and phoenix," Hermione said, instantly. Everyone but the two Weasley twins ignored her, not knowing what was happening. "Madam—"

"Not now," Pomfrey ordered.

"But—"

"Hermione." That was Aurora, snappish.

"But—"

"Hermione's right," Fred said. "Ginny told us about the basilisk and the phoenix from last year!"

Emboldened by no one shushing Fred, Hermione jumped back in, "Last year, the basilisk bit Harry, his arm." She barreled on, ignoring the shock and trembling that shivered through both staff members. Poppy was terrified. Aurora was far too scared to think. "Fawkes healed him. But the basilisk venom wouldn't have just gone away. And neither would the tears. Madam Pomfrey, what if exposure to the dementors somehow served as a catalyst for a reaction between the venom and the tears and now they're fighting again?"

"It's…" Pomfrey took a deep breath, "A distinct possibility. Aurora, floo Mungos and ask for Vincent Kensington and Rupert Sansonore. Tell them to come immediately. Mr. Weasleys, one of you get Remus Lupin, the other Rubeus Hagrid. Miss Spinnet, please fetch McGonagall from her office, no matter what she's doing." The directed sped off to their assigned tasks.

Hermione backed away from Harry's bedside, fighting tears. Able wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed her against her side for support. Sarah and Neville stood behind them, barely aware of what was happening. Katie sat on Angelina's bed, her mind strangely calm, like so much emotion from others had been quelled. She didn't understand it, but she'd stay with her friends…

Harriett, Blaise, Zach, Sapphire and Sebastian stood well away from clustered group. They'd all be medically cleared, but not herded from the hospital wing. Harper, Derrick and the eldest Wood had left as soon as Poppy released them. The others stayed. They cared too much about Harry to leave. Harriett was a wreck. She'd been the closest to Harry when he fell. She'd been the only one to see the tiny silver robin that flirted around her head and kept those horrid creatures away. She _knew_ Harry had cast and somehow protected her, long after he'd fallen. It didn't help that she'd been instrumental in diving after him and, with Katie's and Zach's help, mostly catching him. They didn't catch his broom, though.

Or his wand.

Both were completely shattered.

Harry started screaming. It melded poorly with the haunting progression of single note after single note. Harriett had heard a phoenix trill, just once, when she'd first met Dumbledore and his bird. The shivering girl moved away from her housemates and to one of the windows of the hospital wing. She was just across a bed from the little tray on which they'd laid the broken bits of Harry's wand. The phoenix core was shriveling into ash. A white owl tapped impatiently on the window. She recognized it as one of the birds from the owlry that always seemed to have a central perch. Was it Harry's? Madam Pomfrey wasn't paying any attention, so Harriett unlatched the lock and let the bird inside.

Grandma arrived… Harriett was still far to broken to waste the energy thinking of her Gran by any other term. She wished she could talk with her, just to be reassured or promised or… Harriett shuddered again, slammed the window shut and moved back to stand with her team. Sapphire gave her a questioning look before offering a hand. Slightly puzzled, Harriett stared at the proffered hand for a good couple seconds before wrapping it in her own hand and squeezing. "He'll be all right," Sapphire said. Her words were drowned out by another, louder scream from their friend. The gathered Slytherins pressed closer together, drawing comfort and support from each other. Zach and Sebastian stood like guards, on either side of Blaise. It actually made Harriett feel much better.

Remus Lupin and one of the Weasley twins arrived first, followed fairly quickly by the other and Hagrid. Not long after that, Vincent Kensington stepped through the floo in Poppy's office and immediately strode towards Harry's bedside. The unknown healer, one Rupert Sansonore, was not far behind. At Poppy's command, the twins guided Neville, Sarah, Hermione and Able to the other side of the hospital wings, near the Slytherins. None of the students were privy to the rather hurried conversation that skipped back and forth from the three healers to Harry's guardian and head of house. Katie remained close enough to hear, and Alicia beside her, but they remained focused on the petrified Angelina.

The adults had a very hushed and hurried conversation over the silenced but still screaming Harry. After a few seconds, Sansonore started attending to him. Pomfrey hurried into her potions' cabinet, accompanied by Kensington. The mind healer gathered the potions Sansonore requested, while Pomfrey dug the Restoration Draught out of the back of her cabinet. It was one of those rare potions that never spoiled, but was nearly impossible to brew so it was nearly impossible to buy off the actually potions market. Snape had made extras the previous year. She measured out the appropriate dosage and shifted it into Angelina's system. It would take a few hours, but the girl would return to full health… Harry had stopped screaming, but he refused to open his eyes. The unearthly music had finally faded out. The white owl perched over his bedside and only Sansonore gave Hedwig an odd look. Hagrid left, having supplied his knowledge on basilisks and their venom, as he was shooed away by Minerva and Remus.

Sarah detached herself from Neville and walked up to Harriett and Sapphire. The two girls looked at her, both quiet and unassuming. Sarah stuttered a little before managing to say "ehm, I know I can't really speak for the rest of the people in my year, but I'd really like to be friends. Do you want to do that potions project together?"

Sapphire and Harriett didn't respond right away, until Harriett started nodding, very, very quickly. Even under Snape, Sarah had clearly been one of the best brewers in their year. "Friends," she said, sticking out a hand. Sarah took her hand and then took Sapphire's hand too and the three girls linked together. They'd never be best friends, but for Sarah – who hated coming out of her shell – she just gained two beneficial companions for the years to come. Now she had to figure out how to keep them… It was a somber group that waited; the twins behind the bunch, looming over them like giant protectors. Neville, Hermione and Blaise stood with Able, with the three second year girls between then and Zach and Sebastian. They didn't talk. They didn't need to.

"Vivant," Hermione whispered to herself. "I'm naming that phoenix Vivant."

o.o.o.o.o.o

Outside of the hospital wing, the mood wasn't anywhere close to somber.

Most everyone was gathered in the Great Hall, unable to weather the tension on their own or in the common rooms. A Hufflepuff first year had written to his mother immediately after the game and managed to reach her before the evening version of the Daily Prophet hit the press. Annaline Addison's very anti-dementor rant didn't make the first page, but it was Addison and more and more people had become her loyal following throughout the time of – as Addison termed it – the Hogwarts Revolution. The outcry was enormous. The students were already crying for it, but the letters and howlers and demands from parents began to flood the school, not long after the article reached the public.

Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Sprout managed to regain control over the situation and the mail wards within short order and a reluctant Rhythm tried to talk some – according to Dumbledore – sense into the students, but they didn't listen to him. Harry had been hurt by the dementors. Their _hero_ had almost died. He'd lost his broom and even according to some rumors, his wand, but that couldn't be true, right? Harry was a hero; his wand wouldn't just break like that.

The Hufflepuffs raised a statue of a badger, a raven, a griffin and a snake, all standing around at statuesque version of Potter. The Ravenclaws – not to be out done – added color and sparkling magic, making the statue shine with energy and light. Slytherins transcribed a serious of runes and sayings and languages around the hilt of the statue, turning the solid stone into the lifelike-liveliness of a portrait. Gryffindors – led by Emma and Dean Thomas – sculpted miniature versions of the patroni that they knew of. There was no robin sculpture, although Paradise insisted on adding a phoenix.

Dumbledore tried to take the statue down. The school nearly rose up in arms against him. The twinkling headmaster withdrew his discontent in that matter. Saturday night – when the rest of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams, along with Harry's closest friends were ejected from the hospital wing – brought with it a show of solidarity so strong, it had even the most ancient of portraits talking.

The rumor mill had started twisting things, to the point where Harry Potter had started the whole Hogwarts Revolution single-handedly. A privileged few knew better, but they didn't speak up, for using Potter in place of them was beneficial. The Potter name gave the revolution a credibility that wouldn't have existed had say – Patricia Stimpson and Jacob Dare exchanged frequent, triumphant looks, but no one paid either of them enough attention to care – some random nobodies.

Saturday night, the school watched in awe as the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams sat together, and, one by one, pulled the members of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Quidditch teams together at one of the long tables. Other Quidditch fanatics joined them, until the table was full of the jocks and athletes of the school. Many other people sat in awe of that group, in awe of their connection to Potter and their ability on the pitch…

Late Sunday morning, Harry himself was released from the hospital wing.

o.o.o.o.o.o

"Please!"

"No."

Harry looked at his hands. They were still shaking a little from all the magic that had coursed through him. The adults hadn't really explained what had happened, just that he'd fallen a good forty or so feet before Katie and Zach caught him. Stupid dementors. And his broom had smashed. And his wand... it had snapped open, the wood turning a dark, ugly black as the phoenix feather faded into ash. Madam Pomfrey didn't want him doing magic for a few days, until – she said something about conflicting forces of magical energy, but Harry didn't understand that – his magic calmed down. She estimated it would be about three days. And then on the fourth day, a couple professors would take him to see Ollivander again.

But he didn't have to stay in the hospital wing the entire time. He'd be released into the custody of this prefect or that prefect, so long as he was in the company of at least one prefect who'd verbally accepted responsibility of looking after him. The mediwitch had introduced him to a house elf named Sal who'd offered to watch over him as well. It made Harry feel like an immature child and he hated that feeling. He hated the part of him that accepted that he needed to be watched. He hated himself for accepting that he was rash and dangerous and reckless and he got himself hurt…

Aurora hadn't really spoken to him. She'd been there when he woke, along with a bunch of other people, but she'd just squeezed his hand, brushed his hair off his forehead and said they'd talk later. She sounded kind of mad, actually…

"You're not walking around unattended, Harry," Pomfrey said, sighing. "I told you; Miss Spinnet is already on her way here."

And that was when Alicia and Katie walked through the hospital wing doors. Angelina had opted not to come down to the infirmary, which made Harry all the more anxious. Was she mad at him? He hadn't meant to do anything to her. It hadn't been on purpose! But he tried to push that worry aside when he saw – great, Katie caught that thought, emotion, whatever anyways. He could see it in her face. "C'mon, Harry," said the low level empath, "Angie thinks you're her little prodigy. She's actually waiting for you, up in the common room." Her smile was comforting and all.

Alicia verbally recognized that she'd watch out for Harry and then the three of them left the hospital wing. Katie chatted about this and that for a few moments before she too fell silent. It was a long, silent walk.

"Harry," Alicia said, when they were about halfway to the common room, "what would you have done if you'd petrified my sister instead?"

Harry's insides went cold.

"Alicia," Katie hissed. "Don't _say_ that. Don't you dare—"

The third year closed his eyes and pressed his hands over his eye sockets. Maybe he could ask Mr. Regan to find him a pair of dark sunglasses or something. Maybe Pomfrey had some guaranteed way of making sure that didn't happen again. He refused to be a danger to other people. "Sarah's my friend," Harry hissed. "Angelina's my friend. I'd never intentionally hurt them!"

Alicia was quiet. A few corridors on, she mumbled a quick "sorry."

Harry mumbled something, but neither Alicia nor Katie could hear what he said. The little boy had folded in on himself and become just a shell of the kid they'd grown used to in the past three months. Alicia and Katie exchanged worried, nervous glances. At the portrait hole, Harry hung back as Alicia provided the Fat Lady with the current password. He didn't want to face this… he didn't want to… the door swung open to reveal a massive, celebratory sign with his name on it. Horror cycled across Harry's face as people clapped and cheered for him, all welcoming him back, all – panic settled into the young man's shoulders. They were crowding. Asking for a handshake.

All he did was fall…

The dementors…

For once, Harry was very, very glad he was so small. He could even duck around second years in his hurry to make it to the dormitory stairs. He made it to the stairs. He made it up the stairs. He made it into the fourth year dorm room. Neville and Able… had they been downstairs? He didn't know, he couldn't remember… weren't there. Cormac was. "Hi Harry," enthused the older boy, looking up from a magazine that Harry knew he really did not want to know what was inside. "Hiding from your adoring fans, aren't you?" His tone wasn't supposed to be cruel, Harry knew. Cormac wasn't instinctually cruel. But still…

"Get out," Harry ordered, throwing himself on his bed and reaching for the curtains. "Just get out!"

He couldn't think. He couldn't focus. He was completely losing control. No… no… What if he did petrify Sarah? The darkness of his in-closed bed helped him focus, but it wasn't enough. What if it happened again and this time, someone died from whatever magic the basilisk was imbedding into his magical core… "Harry?" It sounded like Hermione. Why was it always Hermione? "Cormac, get out." Definitely Hermione.

This time, Harry could hear Cormac grumble, but leave the room anyway. Hermione moved across the room and perched – Harry guessed – on the central grating of their fireplace thing. "People are giving you credit for this Hogwarts Revolution." When he didn't respond, the girl plowed on, "I know that you don't have the best track record with these people and everything, but think about it, Harry. They love you right now. Somehow, someone's brought unity to Hogwarts and you've played a major role in that. Getting hurt like you did just idolizes you even more—"

"I don't care," Harry whined. He unwrapped the curtain from around his bed and looked up at his oldest close friend. She didn't freeze or die or anything. Hedwig scratched at the window and Hermione moved to let the owl in. "You weren't there, Hermione, last year. You weren't there to see how bad it got. Everyone hated me. It was horrid."

Hermione was facing the window, her hand clenched tight around the latch. Her shoulders were tense. She was shivering like crazy. "Harry, I lost over three months. Three months! March, April, May, some of February… It's all dark. Nothing happened. Justin lost even more time than that. Tell me, Harry, look me in the eyes and tell me you don't think that's affected me just as much as it's affected you and Ginny."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she finally fumbled the window open and let Hedwig in. The owl flew to his side, perching on his shoulders and started nibbling on his hair. They didn't attempt to communicate. They didn't need to. Hermione turned from the window to face her friend. "Three months. Justin lost so much time. And Colin. You know, Penelope got five OWLs. Five. Queen of Ravenclaw, you know, absolutely brilliant. Pureblood, you know, petrified by mistake because I was there. The Clearwaters tried to get me arrested, actually, but Dumbledore did something or whatnot. He didn't explain anything. Anyway, no one made any arrangements for her to have extra time to study for. They took away three months of her life and three months of instruction.

"She passed Arithmancy, Charms, Herbology, Muggle Studies, and History of Magic without a single Outstanding. Do you know what that does to her future? Here was a girl who was going to beat Percy Weasley's OWL scores and she can't scrap away one O." Hermione was almost mad now, but she still hadn't raised her voice. "You know Ginny's story, but look at Colin: he's taking DADA, Potions, Transfiguration _and_ Charms with the first years because he missed too much to keep up with his classmates! And Justin! You want to know the only way that he and I are still in third year? We spent all summer studying. All summer, Harry," Hermione's voice dropped to a whisper.

"I would spend one week at his house and then he'd spend one week at mine. Our parents weren't too pleased, but it was the only way we could catch up on the material we missed. It was Professor Sprout that made sure that our exams would be waved and we could jump back in with our regular class if we could learn the material well enough." Harry tried to say something, but Hermione crossed the room, and plopped down beside him on the bed. She was still talking. "And you know the worst part?"

Harry didn't want to know. But Hermione was going to tell him anyway. "They didn't tell our parents. Oh, of course, Penelope's parents knew all about the petrification, but did anyone inform my parents, or Justin's parents, or Colin's parents?" The vigorous shaking of her head told the story, even without her whispered, pain filled words. "Beginning of summer, there was this Granger-Creevey-Finch-Fletchey gathering in Cornwall. We had to work so hard to convince are parents to let us stay at Hogwarts. So hard." Pain. Far too much pain in Hermione's voice. "But they didn't have much choice. Creevey could probably have gotten into a good enough school, but there was no way Justin would have gotten back into Eton or any other school of class. I'd have probably ended up back in some public school. We didn't have a choice," Hermione whispered. "And that just wasn't… So please, Harry, don't tell me I don't understand. Because I was there for a lot of it. And yeah, I missed a lot of it and I've already suffered because of that. Don't blame me."

Hedwig hooted softly. Harry reached up and snaked his arm over Hermione's shoulder, providing some limited comfort to his best friend. She leaned against his shoulder, quiet. Hedwig perched between them. After a long while, Hermione sniffed. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean…"

"It needed to be said," Harry interrupted her. "And I'm so, so sorry for not… not, you know."

Hermione shrugged into his arm. "Not your fault."

Harry furrowed his brow. "But… I've never seen you really talk with Colin, or hang out with Justin much at all—"

"Justin and I aren't great friends," Hermione said, shrugging. "We agreed that back at Hogwarts, we didn't have to spend time together. Harry, you seemingly get along with anyone and everyone but Malfoy and his cronies." That wasn't true at all, but Harry really didn't try and refute her. "That's not true for most people. We just got so sick of each other over the summer that we didn't need to try and be friends at school. Sure, we don't hate each other and all."

The door opened and William Caric stuck his head in. "Harry, Hermione, nearly everyone is leaving for lunch. They wanted me to check in on you, see if you wanted to come and whatnot. "

Harry really didn't want to go to lunch. Not at all. "Um… I don't… Can't I just stay up here?" He probably sounded like a petulant child again.

William nodded. "What if Emma and I stayed and ate with you? We could bring something up from the Great Hall or something…"

The small, slightly misshapen house elf Sal popped into the dorm room. "Me is bringing food for Student Harry. How many, sirs?"

William blinked, very quickly. "Um, just four?"

Hermione and Harry agreed. Sal popped away. William retreated to go collect Emma.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, pulling away from Harry.

He furrowed his brow again. "For what?"

"For being a friend, Harry. For being an extraordinary friend."

Harry shivered. But he accepted her comment at face value and actually, for once in his life, felt like he had a very best friend. There was a picture of him, Hermione, Able, Sarah and Neville perched on Neville's bedside table. Or four best friends... Harry half smiled.


	25. You're Gonna Be Popular

_A/N: I wrote the epilogue today. Eleven more chapters and an epilogue. I'll get them posted soon enough, but it's because I'm done with this story. I needed to end it. I doubt that anyone is going to like the ending, but that's what life is: it doesn't end. It goes on._ _So, yeah. I need to put the story to sleep, because it's pathetic and it's dragged me down. But there's always future stories, always future ideas. With all the characters in the Hogwarts universe... there's always ideas._

Chapter Twenty-Five

You're Gonna be Popular!

Emma and William spent nearly half their afternoon tucked away with Harry, Hermione and eventually Neville. Able popped in and out, but Cormac stuck around; they ignored him for the most part. Eventually, Emma and Hermione started talking about shopping – of all things. Cormac left, and Neville said he was meeting Sally-Anne, Hannah and Gregory Goyle for some sort of especially advanced Herbology class. That left Harry and William to talk.

And it was odd. Harry liked and trusted Oliver, but the older boy was more of a coach and captain than a friend and mentor. And he really hadn't spent enough time around Eric and, well, Percy was Percy, so he'd never had a real adult mentor. So as the girls chattered about this and that, William and Harry talked about sports about classes about life and, in hushed, whispered voices, about girls.

Harry never got the feeling that William was laughing as the older boy explained a few things about the opposite gender. It was a bit weird, but Harry had been noticing and, urm, thinking and you know, that sort of stuff. It wasn't like he'd really act on it, not yet – he told himself – but curiosity doesn't die, neh?

It was around three o'clock when the two separate conversations actually merged back into one. But that only lasted for about fifteen minutes before Hermione left to go to the library and William asked Emma to leave. Harry was sort of curious…

"Harry," William said, as he stood, awkwardly, in the middle of the room. "I know you were there when, the, you know." He blushed a bright red, nearly a Weasley color. "Anyway, I've been researching marriage laws, 'cause I would like to propose, and it's not like… normal." His confusion both amused and comforted Harry. It really was cool to know that someone like William could struggle in the wizard world just as much as he would. "Poseidon helped a lot, actually."

Harry vaguely recognized the name Poseidon as one of the Slytherin seventh years, but he hadn't actually met the guy.

"I'm a total muggleborn," William said, frowning slightly. "And you know Emma's a nomah. It was different in your dad's case, because we're a patriarchal society, you know." Harry didn't really know, but he let William ramble. "And, well, what Poseidon said was that I'd need a sponsor; someone from a Noble and Ancient House or higher to propose on Mr. MacDonald on my behalf and Poseidon said he'd do it, but he's not the head of his house, so it wouldn't carry nearly enough weight and, well, the Grants and the MacDonalds aren't enemies, but they aren't allies either. Do you think, I mean, would it trouble you, if, um, would you sponsor me?"

Harry had started blinking very rapidly a few seconds ago and hadn't really stopped. The surrealness of this all… "Sure? But, well, I'm not sure what that consists of."

"Me neither," William said, somewhat sheepishly. "Poseidon and Mary will probably know though, so they can help us."

Able burst into the room and completely ignored the somewhat awkward way William and Harry where holding themselves. "Hey, Harry, Eddie wants to call another meeting; apparently Su's group has been meeting twice a week, so he wants to copy them. You okay to join us the Charms wing?"

"Yeah," Harry said. His book bag was hung over the end of the bed, but it was stuffed full of this and that. He pulled out the fiction and two of the personal journals he'd gathered from the various vaults. That left just his lightened textbooks, the language book, and one of the Arthure grimoires. Harry and William shared a bit of an awkward goodbye before Harry left with Able. They nearly got mobbed in the common room. Again. That was when Harry decided that Able Vane would make the perfect bodyguard, because he really was spectacular in warding off all the people that Harry didn't want to talk too.

The walk to the charms wing was quite; neither Able nor Harry talked much, which Harry appreciated. His friend didn't need the near constant chatter or pointless fluff that he'd gotten so used to around Ron and Hermione. It took five minutes to reach the fourth floor education wing, but the Carmichaels and Persephone Grant already had a classroom staked out. Academically, they were a fairly strong group. Harry could pull his weight in DADA, Charms, Astronomy, Runes and in most of the other classes. He and the Carmichaels had any Muggle Studies questions down pat, and Persephone was exceptionally gifted at understanding the human mind. Most Slytherins and the rare Ravenclaw she interacted with had her pegged as a future Undersecretary to the Minister, or perhaps the first female Minister of Magic (not that anyone said such things to her face). They were a good team, Harry had decided, but as teams went, he preferred his Quidditch team much more.

After they worked together – for a few hours – it was Able who managed to convince the two Ravenclaws that dinner was actually a good idea. Nora was the one who convinced Harry he couldn't continue to hide. And so they went down to the Great Hall together. And… well… yeah…

"_Partumdeignis_ not _partumetignis_, really, Eddie, how can you get them confused?"

Harry didn't know the fourth year spell that they were talking about, so he let the fourth years duke out their latest pronunciation battle. His instinct told him that there was very little difference between the correct pronunciation and the one that Eddie had mistakenly used in their last class… Persephone had detached herself from the group and was walking a few paces ahead of them. Nora and Able were on either side of Eddie, arguing over that spell and Harry trailed just a few steps behind them, not actively listening to their conversation.

That was… until they reached the Great Hall. It was fairly late for a normal dinner, so most everyone had arrived. The four fourth years continued inside as if nothing was amiss. But Harry stopped. Harry stared.

It was a statue.

An actual statue.

And it _sparkled._

Um… Harry stared at the full size – a little larger than full size, even – statue of himself. What in the name of Merlin's thrice-blessed, curse-ridden, bejeweled, bloody trousers! Morgana on high, reign down some pittance of sanity! What had happened?! Harry quivered. He didn't… Oh bloody hell…

No one but Paradise noticed when Harry turned from the Great Hall threshold and ran. She excused herself, graciously, and chased after him. An elf named Sal could feel that Harry was unaccompanied, so he too chased after Harry and Paradise. Up four flights of stairs, she chased him, barely managing to stay within sight. She called, but he refused to stop. Finally, the boy ran into what appeared like a dead end. Paradise stopped and stared at her shaking brother. "It's about the statue, isn't it? I told them—"

"It's okay, Paradise," Harry said, still shaking. "I just…" He shrugged and looked around at the corridor around them. It was dimly lit, but not at all dusty. It still had a very disused look about it. Harry pushed open one of the doors, figuring that he might as well keep exploring. They really should make a map of Hogwarts… "I'm not going to dinner, though."

"I wasn't asking you to," Paradise said, pouting. "We're going exploring?"

"If you want," Harry said. The door opened onto a long room with five of the armor statues spaced about a white circle drawn on the floor. All sorts of weapons were propped up against the wall.

"Wicked," Paradise whispered, as she stepped inside and around Harry. She went up to the wall and studied a few of the swords and knifes and staffs.

Sal entered the room behind them. "Tis the armory, Mister Student Potter."

Harry jumped, startled, and stared at the little elf. "Is it normally used?"

"Not at all," Sal twittered. "But it is available to teach students to use arms. Master Headmaster Sir like to forbid students to use this room." The elf squeaked and covered his mouth with a hand.

"Wicked," Paradise said. "Let's, Harry. Let's."

"How does it work?" Harry asked, half to the room, half to the elf. It be cool to learn how to use a sword.

"I don't—" Sal said, bouncing on his heels. "me don't know."

"I wanna learn," Paradise said.

One of the statues creaked, bending at the waist and unbending. A disembodied, rather creepy voice filled the armory. "Which do you want to learn?"

Paradise bounced, eagerly. "I want to learn to use a sword."

The voice laughed, snickering evilly. It didn't feel like it was coming from the stretching statue, but rather the building itself. "Lift one of the swords, girl. Lift it and I'll teach you."

Paradise turned and tried to pull one of the swords from the rack on the wall. She managed to get one free, but couldn't hold it upright. It was too large for her. "Um—"

The statue turned to Harry as the voice continued to snicker. "You?"

"I want to learn," Harry said, shrugging.

"Good. Leave the sword, girl, and both of you, come into the circle."

The statue and the disembodied voice began instructing Harry and Paradise in various stances for hand to hand combat. Both of them were clumsy, with no idea how to obey the voice's commands. Paradise picked it up a bit faster than Harry, but as time dragged on Harry could manage the stances and motions as well. Sal made them stop every once in a while to drink and take a breath. They lost track of the time, eventually, and Sal had to drag them out of the circle to remind them about curfew. Paradise wasn't happy about that, but Sal insisted that it was his responsibility to keep Harry safe.

The elf caved a little, and said if they wanted, he'd let them stay out an extra hour after curfew the following night, if they had a way to guarantee that they wouldn't get caught. He also promised not to tell any of the teachers. Harry and Paradise grinned, thanked the elf, and left for the Gryffindor tower. Most everyone had gone to sleep by the time they returned, but Hermione, Neville, Sarah and Able were up, waiting for them.

All four of them were extremely worried about Harry, especially Able. The older boy apologized and apologized for not thinking. Harry shrugged it off, gave Hermione and Sarah calming hugs and joined the boys in going up to bed. Harry fell into bed, exhausted. Training had been fun… Paradise would be really good sooner or later. Well. If they kept up with it. Honestly, he got so busy sometimes, he couldn't think… Sleep claimed him.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Classes on Monday were unbelievably frustrating. Professor Rhythm wouldn't let him brew while in potions, and Herbology was just a lecture. Harry got the impression that Professor Sprout was intentionally talking so that he'd still be able to participate in class. And then in Ancient Runes, he failed a vocabulary test, because he mixed up the old Nordic script that they were supposed to be learning with one of the other languages he'd studied.

Professor Babbling just laughed at him, congratulated him, and gave him full points anyway. The rest of the class had enjoyed that. At lunch, Harry ate at the very front of the Gryffindor table, as far away from the statue of himself as he could get. Able was engaging in very loud arguments with Emma and some of the older students from other groups. And some of the younger girls. They were refusing to take down the statue. Harry just ate as fast as he could and retreated into the library. Angelina was studying for her OWLs, so Harry pulled up a chair and read next to her. He quizzed in some stuff, and actually helped her with work in DADA.

Charms was horrid. Professor Flitwick gave him some reading material, but as he didn't have a wand, he couldn't cast anything. He missed his wand. He really missed his wand. Aurora collected him after Charms, saying they were flooing directly to Ollivander's. They were skipping Care of Magical Creatures, because it fit in Aurora's schedule. Harry was tiring quickly, as he got more and more frustrated watching Hermione and Su excel in the charms they were working on.

But he was glad to spend time with just Aurora. It was a nice break from all his classmates. Lavender and Pavarti had reverted to giggling whenever he was around. And with Daphne completing their trio, it was almost worse. The Robbins girls, every single second year girl – minus Sarah, Ginny, and Harriett – were acting like rapid fangirls. It didn't make _sense._ They'd treated him normally before.

They flooed from Aurora's office to the dingy, offbeat little wand store. It was empty, thankfully. Harry could see out the window that Diagon Alley was rather busy, but not nearly as busy as it was in August. Ollivander wasn't by the desk. Aurora rung the little bell and sat down in one of the desk seats. Harry rested his elbows on the window, watching the robed wizards and witches stroll by. "Aurora, what do you have planned for Christmas?"

"I'm not on school duty," the teacher said, "So we can do whatever you want. Do you have plans?"

"Um," Harry picked at the paint on the window sill. "There's the Longbottom Ball on Boxing Day. And I think I need to visit with Mr. and Mrs. Spinnet. And, oh, Aurora, what's proper for Christmas presents?"

The teacher blinked. "I don't know. Perhaps you should ask Miss MacDonald or someone else at your social status."

"Okay," Harry said, quiet. "But I just… I want to give people stuff this Christmas. I've never really had that chance before."

"Do it." Aurora said.

Ollivander stepped out from the back, from among the shelves. "Mr. Potter. Madam Sinistra." He sounded vaguely surprised. "How many I help you?"

Harry turned around from the window. "My wand broke."

Eyebrows rose, the old man wasn't believe what was going on. "Holly and phoenix feather, a brother want to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Aurora startled at that. Harry hadn't told her about that brother wand thing. "You broke it?"

"Not intentionally," Harry grumbled, moodily. "I had it on me during a Quidditch match. And I passed out."

Ollivander half snickered. It sounded like a laugh that wasn't really quite there. Ollivander could laugh? "Not a good combination, Mr. Potter. Do you have the pieces?"

"It burnt," Harry said.

Aurora stepped forward and placed a little box on the desk. "If they are of any value—"

Ollivander opened the box and sniffed the burnt feather and pieces of wood. He closed box and tossed it aside. "Worthlessness." Harry gathered the box and jammed it in his pocket, glaring at the old man. That was his wand. Well, what was left of it. And he was going to keep it. "You were a tricky costumer, young Potter. Are you ready to go again?"

"No," Harry answered, very truthfully.

And it was on. Ollivander retook his measurements with the odd little tape measure and started thrusting wand after wand at Harry. None of them felt right. A few of them even made his stomach turn. His magic vehemently protested every phoenix feather, which seemed to be what Ollivander primarily had in mind. After over an hour of wands, one dragon heartstring and maple wand caused physical pain to Harry's hand. He dropped the wand with a soft shriek, backing away from the desk.

"Something is wrong with your magic," Ollivander said, half condemning, half curious. "Any idea what that is?"

Harry rubbed his aching right hand. "Phoenix tears and basilisk venom." He said, quietly. "Last year, I got bit by a basilisk and healed by a phoenix. I've had violent reactions to dementors; I passed out because they were trying to kiss me. Make of it what you will." He turned his back on the wandmaker and moved back to the window. His hand still smarted.

"Harry—" Aurora said, softly. He pulled away from her gentle touch.

Ollivander retreated amongst the shelves and stayed there for a good ten minutes. He finally returned with two separate wand boxes, each labeled with intricate runes. Harry only recognized a very few of the runes. It took some convincing before Harry would touch either wand, but he finally picked one up and it didn't react badly with his magic. It didn't feel nearly as good as his holly and phoenix feather, but it wasn't bad… He didn't wave it about. The first wand, Harry put down and he picked up the second. This was a much shorter and darker wand. The wood felt unimaginably smooth. It too didn't feel bad, just… Harry really didn't understand magic.

"Try some magic," Ollivander said. "You have permission in this building."

Harry bit his lip and picked up the first wand. He twirled the first wand and whispered a quiet "_expecto patronum_" and watched as Aegisa – the lion cub – burst forth and bounced around the disheveled wand store. It looked like Ollivander might have some sort of stroke or something… Harry put that wand down and waited for a few moments. Aegisa didn't disappear. And the magic worked. It actually worked. With the second wand, Harry cast another patronus charm. This time, a little robin spurted out of the wand and flirted through the air. Harry winced. It didn't fell like a new one, but rather… had he actually managed to cast it around the dementors? Maybe Harriett…

"They work fine," Harry said, rolling the second wand through his fingers a little more. He liked the feel of this one better.

"Try both," Ollivander suggested, his voice low and whispery.

Harry snatched at the second wand, and with one in either hand, he cast another patronus charm. This time, the phoenix patronus spurted out, and shown, all golden and silver and glowing. The light filled the whole shop, filled, overflowed, burnt… Harry canceled the spell. His magic was _singing._ "That felt good. What are they made of?"

Ollivander sighed, "Rock, Mr. Potter. Rock."

Harry wasn't great at magical theory, but even he knew that variations of rock were almost always the least conductive materials for magic. "Excuse me?"

"You, Mr. Potter," Ollivander said, his voice full of shock and humor. "You will never need another wand."

Harry closed his eyes and groaned. "But—"

"Good luck, Mr. Potter," snickered the old wand maker. "Because if my intuition is right, you are going to need it."


	26. Usher in December

Chapter Twenty-Six

Usher in December

Tuesday morning, an exhausted Harry dragged himself out of bed at seven-oh-five. It was much later than he normally slept, but he'd been so magically exhausted from the fruitless wand shopping and then Paradise insisted that they go train for a few hours… They had talked while training, and it gave him an opportunity to teach her Latin, which was improving his own skills. Not that Paradise appreciated being babbled at in a language she didn't want to learn.

Cormac was the only boy left in the dorm, and Harry found himself wishing that he could move back in with Dean, Seamus and Ron. Ron had been, well, not intolerable lately, but they'd only ever been around each other when the third years all hung out together or in class. And even then, Ron now knew better than to seek him out. Harry sighed and started going about his morning routine, thankful that he could ignore Cormac's incessant chatter.

Harry stowed the stick of rock that Ollivander had gifted to him. The old man had said it would be difficult to cast without a focus because he'd overpower each and every spell until he learned to tone down the magic. Although, Harry did want to check and see if the "leech" magic of his was still working. He could do that at breakfast, though, with, um, whatsherface, Ruth. Right. Ruth Turpin.

The common room was empty of the normal bunch of people. Everyone he normally spent the morning with must have already gone on to breakfast. The fifth year boys were gathered together over an armchair, all studying a singular piece of parchment. Harry wandered over to them and stuck his head in their circle. Fred instantly closed up the parchment, so he didn't get a good look at what it was. Not that he really cared. "Plotting some grand prank?"

"For Yuletide," Lee said, "planning's got to start early."

"I'm sure Patricia would say the same about studying," Harry retorted, rolling his eyes at the older boy.

"All right, smarty pants," Kenneth smirked, "all of the fourth, fifth, and second years."

Harry gulped. He'd gotten away from Kenneth's quizzes for long enough, but he really didn't want… oh geez, this was going to suck. And he had no wish to lose any textbooks at the moment. "Fourth year Gryffindors are Able, Katie, Queenie, Eliza, Mary, Cormac, Dakota and Demelza. Fourth year Ravenclaws are Eddie, Nora, Leanne, Cho, and, um, I'll come back to this. Fourth year Slytherins are Selene, Persephone, Julius, and the, um, the Higgs girl. Fourth year Hufflepuffs—" he knew this one. He really did know this one… "um, Logan, Corny, Danielle, Zach, and, um, Frank. The rest of the Ravenclaws…" he'd heard Eddie and Nora discussing them frequently enough… he _knew_ this. "Lance, Marietta and Marcus. I think."

The other boys were nodding encouraging. "That's one year," Kenneth said, "one year of names."

"Fifth year Gryffindors are Kenneth, Lee, Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia, and Patricia. The fifth year Ravenclaws are Samantha, Sally, Rodger, um, Gabriel's older sister – Christina? and, eh, Brian. The fifth year Hufflepuffs are Declan, Horizon, Fae, Kaitlin, and I think David. And then the fifth year Slytherins are Jacob, those two Quidditch guys… Pucey and Warrington, and then those two outcasts, Montague and, um… the female Flint."

"Need her name," Kenneth said, sing-songy.

"Really?" Harry whined. "Megan."

"Wrong. Maria. Do the second years."

"I wanna go to breakfast," Harry complained. He was late enough as it was. Still, he hadn't actually talked to Kenneth for a while… "Second year Gryffindors are Sarah, Ginny, Harry, Andy, Geo, Zia, Colin, Ritchie, Clara, and Clementine. Second year Slytherins are Gracelyn, Zach, Sapphire, Sebastian, Harriett and Franklin. And there's more. Second year Ravenclaws are, um, that I know of… Harrison, Orion, Noelle and the Ackerley girl. The Hufflepuffs are the two Ingrahams, Harry, Nat, Gabriel, Greg, Charlotte, Xavier, and—" the one he nearly always forgot… "Brianna."

"You're definitely weak there," Kenneth said, still a bit sing-songy. "But hey, you've been so recently traumatized…"

"Shut up," Harry griped. "I'm going to breakfast."

He went to breakfast. Thankfully, the statue of himself had been taken down or moved… elsewhere. But it was still disturbing to enter the Great Hall and instantly have people whispering about you, and not just people, but people whom he knew. People who he might have counted friends. The circular tables – which weren't uncommon, but were a bit of a rarity for breakfast – were set up, so Harry pulled up a seat with Angelina, Katie, Alicia, Oliver, the Cedric Diggory guy, the Hufflepuff captain, and one of the Hufflepuff beaters. The next weekend was a Hogmeade weekend at the end of the week: the fourth of December, and that Sunday, Hufflepuff was taking on Ravenclaw.

The Gryffindor chasers welcomed him warmly, and Diggory was enthusiastic about greeting him, but Oliver and the other two Hufflepuffs were too wrapped up in a tactic's discussion to notice. Harry ate quickly and didn't really join into the girls' and Cedric's conversation. They were discussing the pros and their chances of actually making professional play. Cedric said that his were fairly high, but his dad wanted him to go into the Ministry, so he likely wouldn't pursue professional Quidditch. As for the girls… everyone knew that in a two or three years, if none of them got injured, they could write their own ticket in the professional league. Still, they were talking about where they'd _like_ to play.

And so Harry had to interject "You know, I _own_ a Quidditch team, and it needs some rebooting; they're three and nine this season. You guys could always play there."

And of course, that just got him stared at again.

"Um, the Lancashire Lions?" Cedric asked, puzzled.

"Sheffield," Harry said, chewing on a piece of toast.

The girls just blinked. After a few moments, Angelina asked, "Right. I know you lost your Nimbus… what broom are you planning on getting?"

"I don't know," Harry responded. Well, he wanted a Firebolt, but he did have a personal interest in the Comet line. "I'll have to contact Comet and see. And, well, there's a few Quidditch related things I need to go when I've got time."

Alicia pushed aside her finished plate and propped her chin up on her hands. "Am I still getting that Christmas present?"

"If you want," Harry said, "or if you want a Comet Chaser, that's good to." Cedric, and the other three, were all staring blankly at the younger players. They had no idea what was going on, but Alicia must have told Katie and Angelina about his offer, because they didn't seem even phased by what they were talking about. "I could also get you guys a trainer," Harry said. "Professional level, as a cooperative Christmas present. That is, if you're _really_ serious about going pro."

Now everyone at the table was staring at him.

Harry finished his toast and stared right back.

"That would…" Angelina stuttered. "That would…"

"Wow," Katie said, "you're dead serious."

"You're my friends," Harry said, absent-mindedly. He really disliked how they were making a big deal about this, but in truth, he could recognize that it was a big deal and that they did have a right to freak a little.

"Merlin's bloody trousers," whistled the beater, "I need to become your friend."

Harry took a long sip of his juice and didn't look at the older boy. He didn't want to. The three Gryffindor chasers whirled on the beater. Angelina was the first to really speak: "Kyle Maurice Edgecrombie, you stinking little fame seeker!" And by the time she was done yelling at him, and Alicia was done yelling at him, and Katie had only just started, Edgecrombie had well and truly fled. But Harry was also just as eager to get away. He spotted Ruth Turpin among a bunch of other six years, grabbed his bag, and headed over to her table.

There were already eight at that breakfast table, so he didn't sit down, but Ruth finished her conversation with Percy's girlfriend and turned to him, questioningly. He greeted them and asked if they minded if he tried metamorphing. Ruth (who was wearing her hair in a violent blue mohawk) didn't have a problem. And so Harry tried. And he managed to make his hair grow long and then short again and it willingly morphed into a fiery Weasley red. Harry morphed it back, a little puzzled. It was almost easier to morph now, after his magic problems, than before. Was that just because he was magically a lot stronger and there was a lot of excess magic running through his veins? If that was the case and his sponge magic was still working, conceivably the best way for him to learn how to cast without his wand would be to spend time with someone who could cast wandlessly. Hopefully Tonks would still be able to spend a couple of mornings with him… He'd have to run by the theory with Pomfrey or something, but it would probably help.

Hopefully.

Eh…

Harry joined the throng of people and headed for his Wednesday morning class. It was Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, which was just one of the best combinations. He, Neville, Hannah and Sally-Anne were still supervising their long term project and their plants were still growing really well. It was no longer October too, so all three natural growers were really happy. Anyway, that class, Harry spent arguing with Megan Jones about superheroes while they worked on the assigned plant. He didn't really have that much of a base knowledge, but he knew enough to keep up with her. It was a fun conversation.

And, well, Wednesdays in general were some of the best days, because the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs spent the entire morning together and then all got up at midnight together for practical Astronomy. In DADA, Professor Lupin was teaching them about tactics and magical military history. And he was tying the tactic discussion into everything they'd already learned about the magical beasts that the Ministry qualified as Dark. It was just a great class.

Annnnnnd… That was that.

He'd been doing okay with the rock sticks and even, outside of class, tried casting simple charms without his sticks, but he completely overpowered the spells and nearly sent a small rock through the ceiling with a simple _wingardium leviosa_. His magic problems were getting really frustrating.

That Thursday, the second of December, Ginny Weasley had a mental breakdown at lunch.

Harry was sitting at an adjacent table – they were still the eight person circular tables – with Paradise and her first year friends, Gryffindors Lily and Vicky, Hufflepuffs Diana and Harrietta, Ravenclaw Rachelle Thompson, and Slytherin Athena Grant. Lily was a little giggly, as were Diana and Harrietta, but Rachelle and Athena handled his presence with impeccable social grace. Harry had come to expect nothing less from a Grant. Anyway, he spent lunch listening to the girls talking about their various classes as he helped Vicky with her homework in DADA. He knew her overwhelming distaste of Professor Lupin was situational, but it was affecting her grade and something had to be done… Which, yeah. He could get a good supply of that potion to Vicky's dad… perhaps make it a Christmas present or something.

At one of the nearby tables, Ginny was studying some textbook at the same table as Patricia and some of the more recluse Ravenclaws. The table wasn't anywhere near full. The tantrum seemed to come from nowhere. One minute she was fine and dandy, and the next, she was screaming her head off, crying, and begging to leave the school. Harry tried to go calm her down, but Paradise and Vicky held him down, complaining about the last time she'd gone on a rampage.

From several tables over, a mortified, horrified, angry Ron tried to do the same. Ernie and Justin stopped him. The twins made it fairly close to their sister, but Patricia was really the one who calmed her down. The older girl caught Ginny by the wrist and physically forced the tantrum to stop. Ginny continued to scream. Emma and some of the other seventh year girls started pushing back the curious crowd, giving Patricia at least some space to work with. And, after a good five minutes, Ginny calmed down – at least to the point that she'd actually listen to some form of reason.

The whole spectacle had been hard to watch. It made Harry feel guilty. He felt guilty for Ginny's pain and her utter distrust of the school and all of the occupants. He felt guilty for Hermione and Justin's problems, for Colin too. He wanted to turn back time and make it all go away!

"Listen," Patricia said, her palms still enclosing Ginny's damp cheeks, "Hogwarts is the best place for you, Ginevra. I can prove that. Want me to prove that?"

Harry watched, morbidly fascinated, as Ginny nodded.

Patricia pulled away from the younger girl. She raised her voice to address the whole Great Hall. "For anyone who's ever thought they might want to attend a different school, come to the second classroom by the library during dinner tonight. Just come." She wrapped her arm around Ginny's shoulders and escorted the still upset little girl out of the Great Hall.

Harry, still feeling incredibly guilty, turned back to his meal.

"I don't like her," that was Lily. "She's really very not nice."

"Don't say that, Lily," Harry said, frustrated. "She's gone through a lot of rough things."

"So has Para," Diana said. "And _she's_ nice."

Paradise winced.

"Paradise is human," Harry said, nudging his sister with a shoulder. "Just like the rest of us. She may have risen above what's happen to her and let it shape her into a better human being, but that doesn't mean she doesn't still have scars. I still have scars. I hate people." The girls stared at him, agape. "I hate them so much, because each day, they remind me – in little ways – of the bad sides of truly mean people. I see bullying in the hallways and I don't stop because, maybe I've had enough trouble lately. The bully sickens me. I sicken myself. Yet I still can't stand the sight of Melissa Ackerley, and she didn't anything to me. Just, if you ever do anything; try not to judge people based on how they acted. Ginny's a nice girl – congenial, even – but she hasn't learned how to handle the rough stuff."

"I don't like Ackerley either," whispered Rachelle, in the poignant pause that followed Harry's words. "She's mean."

Harry winced. "Do you know why?"

Rachelle opened her mouth, stopped, blinked a few times, before shaking his head.

Harry viciously stabbed at his food. "Yeah. Me neither. Maybe one day I'll figure it out."

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry went to Patricia's talk because he was curious, but mostly because he had truly considered leaving Hogwarts and going to some other magic school, or possibly hiring tutors for himself and his friends. Maybe one day, he'd start a new school for the magically gifted where the teachers would be a bit better, the grounds a little nicer… Maybe. But every time he'd thought about it, Harry always kept coming back to the fact that Hogwarts was his home. He belonged among the drafty old hallways and the battered portraits that could whisper unimaginable secrets into the dark of night. He belonged in the air above rickety old Quidditch stands. He belonged in the red and gold decoration of Gryffindor. Nothing would change that… right?

Still, he went to Patricia's talk. It was himself, Ginny, Hermione, Eliza and Andy Kirke, Colin, and first year Ogden Wester. Very few Ravenclaws showed; just Nora Carmichael, Padma Patil, and two first year boys that Harry met as Adam Princeton and James Blackstone. The Slytherins contingent was even smaller, consisting only of Jacob Dare. Sally-Anne was the only Hufflepuff that showed. None of the Gryffindor – or other – prefects had wanted to come, so Harry knew that Sal was skulking in the background, like he always seemed to be.

"Hogwarts had stood for generations," Patricia opened, glaring down at the assembled students. "And it's not going to fall anytime soon. There's cold, hard data to support the fact that Hogwarts has the best, most well-rounded curriculum of any of the European schools. Actually, you have to scour the Americas before you find a school that produces, consistently, students that score better on the standardized tests than the average Hogwarts students. There are two other major schools in Europe; Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. And guess what, no Durmstrang student is going to know how to charm anything beyond a simple levitation spell, and Beauxbatons can't transfigure anything.

"Neither school provides the same opportunity in electives that Hogwarts does – although Durmstrang does have intensives in which you could learn Dark Magic, Ritualistic stuff, and other nonsense. And at Beauxbatons, there's a greater influence on Enchanting, but Hogwarts offers much of that. Professor Flitwick will run Enchanting seminars for fourth years and older, right Jacob? And there are classes in the animagus transformation, rituals, languages, politics, law, warding, healing, astronomy, runes, divination, arithmancy, care of magical creatures, and even muggle studies. All stuff that very few other schools can offer." She stopped to take a breath.

"Yes, our history teacher is a ghost, but who could be better to teach history than a ghost. Yes, Binns might not be the right ghost, but I think they've got the right idea; it would just take a revolutionary to change that. And we've gotten rid of Snape, but did you know, anyone who graduated NEWT potions under him could, almost instantly, achieve their potions mastery? He might not have been the best teacher for the not so gifted potioneers, but the man could _teach._ The DADA curse? Well, I've got no explanation for that; blame Dumbledore if you get worked up enough." Here, Patricia half-smiled and rolled her eyes. "And, yeah, Dumbledore. He's one of the greatest wizards of our day, and he's our headmaster. If that isn't something, what is?"

Harry stayed quiet. He really didn't agree about Dumbledore.

"So Ginny, and the rest of you, don't ever leave Hogwarts. If you graduate Hogwarts, there will be opportunities open for you, if not in Britain than abroad. You do have friends and family here, Ginny. We can and will look after and care for you. And the thing is, we represent a whole generation of wizards and witches here. Surviving at Hogwarts is a basis for surviving in magical Britain. If we can change things here, we have a chance of making positive changes in the real world, think about it!"

Harry's head snapped up and he met Patricia's eyes. There was a sparkle he hadn't previously seen in her, and a drive of courage and determination. And Harry knew who was behind the recent Hogwarts Revolution. It was the girl would probably never get credit for it who – he was still so very unclear on the details – manipulated the entire school into voiding the House Cup system, eliminating most of the house rivalries, and pretty much changing the entire make-up of the school! _Patricia Stimpson!_ It was… It was… Wow. That was not who he would have guessed…

"Questions?"

Patricia spent the next half hour fielding Hermione's questions. Everyone else faded away, first Jacob, and then Nora and Padma, and then Ogden and Romilda, and then Eliza and Adam, and then James and Adam. Ginny and Colin left, only when Patricia said they could. They hung fairly close together… it was completely expected that they'd be friends, but Harry hadn't actually observed the two in close quarters much. Patricia only humored Hermione for about half an hour before giving her a list of reference books and telling her to look up the material for herself. Harry was the one who convinced Hermione to let him stay in Patricia's "care".

When the bookworm finally left, Patricia started swearing in French. What followed was her sighed "Granger is the perfect example of why I dislike people. I dislike talking to people. I dislike being around people. I just—"

"But you want to be a diplomat," Harry said, shrugging.

"See, that's a challenge!" Patricia exclaimed, "It's not just random, pointless chats. There's a strategy and a game behind diplomacy. "Besides, the Stimpson House has always been political. We're one of the few maintained political families with Gryffindor legacies. It's just us and the MacDonald's at the moment, but if you or Longbottom hit the political arena those lines will be revived."

Harry nodded. "Somehow, I don't think I'll get away from politics."

"Everyone loves you though," Patricia said, "you won't have to work for a thing in your life!"

"But I want to work," Harry retorted. "I want to understand. Tell me, Patricia, _why_'d you start the revolution?"

She frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't deny it. You started the Hogwarts Revolution."

Patricia's frown broke and her smile blared full strength, as if she were letting something out that had stayed hidden for far too long. "Yeah, actually. Well, a group of us did."

"And?" Harry prompted.

"Okay, Jacob Dare. You know him. Halfblood Slytherin. There's this first year, Erin Dallas, who's in the same boat: halfbood Slytherin. And you know, some people can actually handle the pressure and they do well enough. Erin hasn't been. She's been self-combusting because she tries to fit in and our society doesn't let her fit in. And Jacob, well, he'd been watching you for years – another halfblood, a Gryffindor, someone who could conceivably change the world. And after that break we had, when Jacob actually interacted with you, he decided he was done waiting. He was going to change society, change the school, whatever." Patricia flopped into a chair next to Harry.

"But he couldn't do it. I couldn't do it. Best thing that ever happened to us was having Persephone Grant walk in on a plotting section and actually _agree_ to help us out. Seph really did do all the work."

Harry blinked. "She lets you call her Seph!"

Patricia snickered. "Not a word, Potter. Not a word. Although, you being you definitely helped out with the whole Revolution thing. And the Addison kid's Mum blowing it up in the papers. That bit you did with the Woods was genius."

Harry blinked again. "The Woods?"

"Convincing the Woods to be so outspoken about supporting eliminating the whole Quidditch and House Cup. Haven't you paid any attention to how much influence the four of them have had?"

"…No?"

"Excepting that little Aster girl, the youngest Wood is the most popular kid in the first year because of it. And the two of them make a great team when they want to get something done. Oliver and Zachary have been really influential with the various Quidditch players, and then Sally's got some influence over a lot of the fifth and sixth years. I mean, we haven't been working together, but we've definitely been on the same side."

"Well, I'm grateful," Harry said, standing. They'd both already missed dinner, but it wasn't that big of a deal. "Thanks, Patricia."

"Thanks yourself, Potter." She said, standing, shaking his hand, and practically fleeing the near empty room. Apparently enough social contact for the day…

Harry grabbed his back and darted through the darkened hallways towards Aurora's quarters. Other than going to Ollivander to, well, do _that_ he hadn't really seen his guardian lately. Well, except classes, and even there she seemed a lot more distant than normal. It was odd. Sal caught up to him when they were finally in an empty hallway. The elf was normally invisible, but Harry really liked that Sal would walk next to him if no one was around to see. The little guy was completely different from Dobby, and if Harry was honest with himself, he liked Sal's quiet sincerity more than Dobby's bluntly awkward energy. They talked quietly as they walked, at a slower pace than normal, but Sal did have shorter legs…

Aurora wasn't back from dinner when they reached her quarters. The nondescript portrait grudgingly let him in. Sal started up a fire in the grate while Harry pulled one of Enon journals. This was one the ancient journal of one Bethany Enon and it dealt with her struggles during some war. Harry still couldn't decipher which war it was, mostly because Bethany's script was really hard to read. Still, Bethany Enon had been a very social girl at the top of a social ladder, so she spent quite a lot of time babbling on about place settings and manners. Harry actually found that stuff fairly interesting. And, honestly, he was a bit freaked out that he might dramatically mess up at the Longbottom Ball. He didn't have to worry about clothing. Through his daughters, Mr. Regan had made hundred percent sure that Harry Potter had a wardrobe to befit a king – and that was when the man didn't know about all the clothes in the Bartholomew vault. He also knew he'd be escorting Selene Grant. Which, well, he didn't know quite how _that_ had happened, but Mary had just told him that Selene was his date for that day and he'd better be happy about it. Harry didn't particularly care. He did like the Grant girls. And Selene, mercifully enough, was shorter than he was now.

Which was actually rather astonishing.

"What are you doing here?"

Harry hadn't even heard her enter. He jumped and grinned sheepishly up at his guardian. "I just wanted to talk."

Aurora sunk into a chair opposite him and rested her elbows on her knees. She didn't put her face in her hands, but Harry figured that was what she felt like doing. She just reeked of exhaustion. Something was really wrong with her. "What's up, Harry?"

"You first."

She sighed. "Nothing is wrong, Harry."

"Something's wrong," Harry retorted, closing the Enon journal and stuffing it in his bag.

"I'm just tired."

"Why?!"

"Harry!" Aurora snapped. Her voice cracked a bit. "I'm _not_ going to talk about it. So drop it and drop it _now_.

Harry shrunk back into his seat, not wanting to raise any more ire or anything at all. "Sorry. I just… sorry."

"Harry," Aurora sighed, "well, just talk away. How's the magic stuff going?"

"It's rough," Harry said. He took out one of the rock sticks and laid it across his legs. "I can feel the magic inside of me, all the time, like, just this _constant, impossible_ energy. And when I want to use it, it doesn't want to be controlled. I've gotten some simple stuff down, and the stuff we're working on in class, but the stuff in between? I'm pretty much relearning the whole two years because I can't figure out a way around that."

"Elf magic," Sal said, popping into the room with a sandwich for Harry. The boy hadn't even noticed that the little guy had left. "Me teaches Harry elf magic."

"Would that _help_?" Aurora asked, incredulous.

"All control would help," Sal said. "Harry is sponge. Harry soak up magic like sponge. He is capable of _all_ forms of magic."

Aurora paled. No, she went beyond pale. "All?"

"All," Sal repeated.

Harry stared at his guardian, not having a single clue what was going on.

"So, in theory," Aurora said, her voice weak, "he would be capable of learning lunar magic?"

"Of course Madam Professor Miss. Have you not considered this?" Sal asked, innocently. Aurora didn't respond immediately. And so the elf kept talking, "It might help him, actually, gain more and more control. Always searching for control…"

"I'm right here," Harry said, mostly to the elf. He did say it around a full bite of sandwich though, so his words came out rather muffled.

"Yes, Harry," Sal said, almost cheekily. "Me knows."

"Oh, and Aurora," Harry said, not quite sure he should say this, but desperately wanting to be truthful… "Paradise and I found the school armory, and she's got this drive to learn knife skills and martial arts. I'm doing it with her, though. I'll make sure she doesn't get hurt. You won't… you'll let us, right?"

Aurora closed her eyes and tried to force herself to breathe. She didn't really have much control over Harry. Truthfully, she believed that was part of the reason why he had accepted her as a guardian, because she didn't have the power to control him. Just… influence him and worry and… curse Merlin's bloody trousers. "If her grades drop even further—"

Harry snickered. Paradise was one of many who were failing History and, was it Potions? She was failing two subjects, but he could only do so much to help her.

"Then you're both stopping. If you get overwhelmed, you stop, clear?"

"Of course!"

"Good. Don't get killed."

"Sal won't let that happen," Harry said, finishing the last bite of his sandwich. "Thanks."

Nothing happened the night between December 2nd and December 3rd.

Nothing happened Friday, December 3rd.

Well, actually, a lot of things happened Friday, December 3rd, 1993, but there was absolutely nothing of note to report in the going-ons of Harry Potter's life. Or the lives of his friends. Or the life of the student body. Quite a few interesting things happened for the teachers of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but as the teachers are rather professional, no rumors or whispers leaked to the students of this or that or anything.


	27. Shopping Ain't Easy When

_A/N: 'cause real life is boring._

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Shopping Ain't Easy When You Own the Companies

He went to Temperance first. He wasn't even sure why, but of all the older girls, he'd spent the most time discussing _fashion_, of all things, with her. Sure, given who her dad was, it sort of made sense, but he still couldn't even rationalize to himself why he went to Temperance first and not Mary or Neville or really any of his other "I don't know why I'm doing and I need help" friends. He seemed to have a lot of people that fit in that category.

"Sure, Harry," was Temperance's almost humorous reply. "Let me just tell my date I'm ditching him and we can spend the whole day shopping—"

"Oh, uh, sorry—"

"Potter," Temperance sighed, "of course I'll accompany you shopping. Just, do you really think you'll last the whole day shopping?"

Harry pulled six sheets of parchment from his bag and placed it on the breakfast table. Zachary Waller and Ruth Turpin raised their eyebrows at him. Temperance just rolled her eyes. "This is a list of all the people I want to provide gifts for and ideas and price ranges that I might spend on them. They're listed in a semi-order of importance."

Temperance took a swig of her morning juice and perused the packet of neatly scribbled notes. "You've got a ton of names down here, Harry. I mean, I know you're like, loaded, and everything, but really?"

Zachary picked up one of the sheets. "We're _all_ on this."

"Of course," Harry said, "every Gryffindor is. Even Cormac and Percy! Most of the Hogwarts students are, but not for like, significant gifts, you know?"

"How loaded are you?" Ruth said. "Do you know how much this is going to cost? Merlin's bloody beard."

Temperance snatched the papers from Zachary and Ruth. "Quit it, both of you. Let the boss alone and don't gossip about this! At least try and have some discretion."

The morning post arrived and Harry received an angular, long and lithe box. His Comet had arrived. Sure, he got a lot of other mail as well, but he gathered that in a quick pile and thrust it under the table. Sal sapped that back to his dorm. He'd started getting a _lot_ of mail each morning. But he'd open his broom up at the table. Harry plucked at the letter attached to the package and slid it open. It came from the manager of the Comet/Shooting Star company.

According to the Quidditch fanatics that he spent too much time with (mainly Oliver), Shooting Star had folded a few years ago and Comet had bought them out. But the transition hadn't been smooth, so there was still a lot of friction between the various factions of the two merged companies. Still, they were united enough to have one manager who was well aware that he worked directly for Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Slayer-of-Nightmares… whatever other monikers that the public decided to give him. And the letter clearly reeked of a man trying to please someone he really, really didn't want to please. Or that he was scared of. Or something or other.

Harry sighed. Still, it contained the news he'd wanted to hear. He'd 'bought' a Comet Phi, which was one of the Comet specialty brooms. Phi was for Seekers, Sigma for Keepers, and either the Lambda or the Gamma for Beaters. The Comet Chi had been designed for Chasers, but it didn't work very well. The Comet Pi – still under construction – was another Chaser broom. He'd probably get three for the Gryffindor chasers if they ever needed upgrades. And that brought him to the other piece of the letter: "yes, your lordship, we could procure a list of potential trainers that would be willing and acceptable to train potential Chasers who still reside on the Hogwarts grounds." The whole section was condescending, but Harry put the list of provided names aside for later contact. He'd have to go shopping that day.

The Phi really was a nice broom. Harry lifted the silken oak wood from the case and traced his fingernail in the little insignia; the symbol for phi. The stalks of the tail would need trimming; they'd gotten beaten up a little from within the box, but he'd have a broom for Sunday practice and that was good.

Harry barely managed to admire the broom for half a minute before the rest of the Gryffindor team, nearly the entirety of the Slytherin team, and most of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw players mobbed him, all looking to see if he'd gotten some new-super-secret-special broom. Or – hero worshipers thought it would be wonderful – even more than a Firebolt! There seemed to be a lot of disappointment going around that he was using just a regular old Phi. Harry didn't care. Still, it was very, very frustrating to be surrounded by a hoard of Quidditch fanatics when…

Temperance snatched him and the broom and they bolted back to the Gryffindor tower, well away from most of the hoard. Oliver was the only one who managed to stick with them, but Emma diverted him so that the two of them could start shopping. Shopping.

It would be a _long_ day.

o.o.o.o.o.o

He wasn't getting all of his presents in Hogmeade that day. Just most of them.

Harry already knew that there were a few gifts for a few people that he'd get from the vaults he'd inherited. That crossed Mary, Emma, Pavarti, Lavender, Daphne, Lisa, Morag, Mandy, Lily, Romilda, both Ingraham girls, Natalia, Gracelyn, Sapphire, Harriett, Leann, Queenie, Eliza, Demelza, Dakota, Su, Cho, Horizon, Fae, Temperance, Chastity, Ruth, and big Sarah off the list. Aurora had assured him that he had more than enough – in her words – "inexpensive and appropriate" jewelry for all those girls. None of them were really close friends, but he still wanted to get them all more than something… simple. He'd just have to decide which pieces to give which girls.

Girls were easy to shop for if you owned enough jewelry to run a jewelry store.

Boys were harder.

Girls he spent a lot of time around were harder still.

While most of his time was spent in the Hogsmeade bookstore, Harry did make it to other shops. It was just mostly the bookstore.

Harry bought Patricia a book of French poetry. He wasn't sure she'd like it, but so what? For Nora Carmichael, he bought a book on Wizard customs. For Eddie, he found a delightful set of trick cards – completely muggle, and equipped for muggle magic tricks. He'd find it incredibly enjoyable at Hogwarts. Persephone was hard, but Harry eventually decided a sleek set of black boots that would fit the girl's style. Or something similar that Temperance had said; he'd had a difficult time hearing her when she started babbling on about shoes. And Selene, well, Harry didn't find anything for Selene.

For Aurora, Harry bought a full set of mythological reference books. There was something like thirteen volumes, but he knew that Aurora would love it. He didn't find anything for Paradise, either, and that was irking him.

For Fred and George, he bought a couple of Zonko's worst pranks. He'd affix a note saying "FIX THESE" before actually giving the bad bits of magic to the twins. For Lee Jordan, he bought a stuffed tarantula with big googly eyes (McGonagall had _long_ ago confiscated his real one). For Kenneth, he got a book on famous stalkers and serial killers and planned to write some quip about how the boy's knowledge of various people was a little creepy.

He didn't get anything for William; the older boy had requested such. And Vicky, well, after paying for a good twenty-four doses, or about two years, of Wolfsbane Potion for her dad, he couldn't really justify getting something more.

For the three young staff kids, he got lucky in the bookstore: a book on healing for Tyler, a book on famous painters for Becks, and a book of jokes and harmless pranks for Ciara.

He'd already ordered Sally-Anne's present, owl-ordering a book of famous ballets from a company that provided a lot of muggle luxuries for muggle-born, halfblood, and various other people who wanted such amenities. Susan would receive a simple box of chocolates; just a big box of some thirty different flavors that would, for three months, keep refreshing whatever piece she ate. Hannah's present he found in an antique shop off one of the side roads. Well, actually, Temperance found it and thought it might work for someone; it was a clock, but a hand-crafted, gorgeous clock that was decorated with delicate carvings of various flowers. Megan's gift was a book on wizard social customs and other various social interactions that she often complained of not understanding.

For Tracey, he bought a very nice Potion's knife, and for Millicent, he owl-ordered her a copy of the Lord of the Ring's trilogy. She'd expressed interest in reading muggle fantasy, but knew that her dad would not be happy with her actually pursing those interests herself. For Blaise, he bought a top of the line set of Beater's gloves from the Quidditch shop, and for Theo, he found a really weird machine that spun and whirled and created light shows. That was from the antique shop. He was aware that he boy would probably find it very entertaining, even if it was pointless.

Dean's present was more complicated, as Harry had employed someone to go to a couple of West Ham games and take wizarding photos, so that the boy would actually have something more wizard-y to display in his dorm room. And for Seamus, he got a set of nice chessman. He let Temperance pick out a book on Quidditch for Ron; he didn't want to not give the boy something unique, but it still hurt to actively think about what had happened between him and Ron over the past few months.

For Oliver, he got a book on Quidditch tactics, written by some famous Quidditch player that Harry really hadn't paid any attention to as he'd only half listened to Ron rant on and on about him. He was arranging professional Chaser lessons for Katie, Alicia and Angelina, so he still wasn't sure if he'd pick something up for them. For Justin and Wayne, he picked up a huge collection of sports balls and exercise equipment, just on an offhand comment that they'd like a place to exercise more. For Ernie, he just got a history book. For Kevin, Harry bought a pillow. But a bright pink, fluffy pillow that he knew the other boy would find either highly hilarious or highly insulting. It also said "I HEART HARRY" on it, which would only make the situation worse, but Harry was confident that Kevin would take the present in the right way. It also came with a small stuffed Harry doll.

Harry was sure that his clothing company, which had just branched out into some other fabric stuff, was making a killing off all the Harry Potter merchandise.

For Anthony, he found a t-shirt that said "I STUDY TOO MUCH. IT'S NOT BECAUSE I'M A RAVENCLAW. I'M JUST A NERD."

For Zach Wood and Sebastian he picked up some good quality broom servicing kits. For Jacob Dare, he bought a book that complied some of the greatest speeches of revolutionary leaders. Temperance hadn't understood the reasoning behind that one, but she hadn't questioned his decision. Harry found a stuffed lion to give to David Summerby to give to his younger brother Brian.

Harry and Temperance stopped around 2 for a very, very late lunch. They joined Cedric Diggory (Temperance's alluded to date), Hermione and Kenneth at a restaurant near the edge of the village. Harry found Katie and invited her along so that he didn't feel so much like a fifth wheel. Nearly all of his purchases were being mailed to either Aurora or Professor McGonagall, depending on the circumstances. The group of six chatted about inconsequential things for about forty-five minutes before Temperance and Harry hit the shops again. Katie tagged along and the three of them debated what would be the best choice of a gift for Ginny.

Temperance didn't want Harry to get the girl anything, but Harry refused to let her distaste for the younger girl stop him. Katie eventually suggested a pet. It didn't immediately seem like the right idea, but once they visited a pet shop, Harry fell in love with the kittens. He arranged for the shop owner to deliver Ginny a kitten and a note. Harry also decided that he'd write to St. Mungo's and see if a kitten would be an acceptable thing to give Luna Lovegood.

He arranged with a flower shop to deliver a flower to every girl at Hogwarts, color dependent on her house, all on Christmas day. And for the boys, he got Honeydukes to agree to send various candies, based on that boy's shopping preference or just a generic bar of Honeyduke's best chocolate should that boy have not shopped at Honeydukes often enough to form a preference (like the first and second years).

That left just Hermione, Sarah, Neville, Able, Paradise, and Selene.

Which was just far too frustrating. He could give Selene jewelry, like the rest, but that just didn't… urgh. He liked the Grants. He liked Selene. And she wasn't nearly as cold and standoffish as she was when they started meeting about music. Besides, he was socially obligated to give her some sort of nick-knack as an accompaniment thank you, and he was just planning on some sort of jewelry for that. So he wanted something different.

Katie suggested that he make an owl-feather quill for her.

Harry didn't know what that was.

Katie explained.

Harry decided he'd need to make one for Hermione, Sarah, Neville, Able and Paradise before he considered giving one to Selene.

Temperance suggested going back into a clothing shop, but Harry nixed that idea.

Katie suggested something with music, and she dragged Harry and Temperance into an out of the way shop that sold musical instruments.

Harry loved the store. He bought himself a harmonica, a lute, and a few books that would teach him how to play both instruments. And for Selene, there was a harp and instructional books that would shrink for easy mobility. It was great.

He found Paradise a set of small fighting knives in a random shop that sold next to everything. She'd love them. He didn't really want to think about Aurora's reaction.

For Sarah, he bought a huge set of top of the line art tools, like brushes, acrylic paint, oil paint, graphite pencils, colored pencils, paper, water colors, water color paper, canvas, and that was only what he knew the names of. For Hermione, he bought a gown. He let Temperance talk him into going back into a clothing store, and she found the perfect dress for Hermione. It was absolutely lovely, and, well, expensive, but Harry didn't care. For Able, Harry dragged the two girls back to the antique shop and picked up a miniature planetarium and other magical whirly-gigs designed to help in the study of astronomy. And so at the end of the day, it was only Neville that he didn't have a gift for. And he was just utterly exhausted from the shopping grind.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry and the Gryffindor chasers met with the Slytherin chasers and beaters. They'd invited Franklin Harper as well, but the Slytherin seeker denied showing up. Harry trimmed the bent tendrils on his broom and broke in his new Comet Phi with a five versus five Quidditch match. Katie had talked Leann Hooch, the Ravenclaw Keeper, into playing with them. Harry and Leann played seeker while the chaser teams played together. Harriett beat for the Gryffindor girls and Leann while Blaise beat for the Slytherin trio and Harry. They only used one bludger and Angelina was supposed to release the snitch as soon as one team reached ten goals. Until that point, Leann and Harry could help their team's chasers.

It was a good match. The girls definitely had the upper hand in handling the quaffle. Harry, Sapphire and Sebastian were small and quick. They did well at keeping the ball away from the girls when they caught it, but they only had Zach to challenge any of the older girls on size. Blaise, however, was destroying Harriett when it came to the bludger. He was exceptional at knocking the ball towards Alicia and Angelina, but Katie always seemed to be able to avoid him.

Just like Harry could avoid anything coming from Harriett. He couldn't explain it. He couldn't explain it at all, but for some inexplicable reason he could just _tell_ when Harriett was sending the beater at him. And Katie too. Was it her empathy? Harry wondered as he served to the side, avoiding a bludger. He was blocking the goal posts and Angelina was barreling, barreling, barreling down on him. She shot and Harry just managed to knock the ball away. Still, Alicia caught it on the rebound and flipped it easily through a third hoop. That put the girls up 100 to 30. Angelina released the snitch and Harry counted to ten before he rose above the goal posts and started searching for the elusive golden ball.

Sapphire tried to pass to Sebastian, but Harriett managed a perfect bludger bat, knocking the quaffle aside. Katie corralled the quaffle and started back towards the other goal post. She scored easily enough, popping the ball straight past Zach. Harry sighed and circled the pitch again. Leann was looking, but it was easy enough to tell that she wasn't naturally a seeker. Her broom was slow and bulky; probably a 260 or even a Nimbus 800. Harry zipped around her, searching, searching, searching.

And there it was, the golden snitch! Harry dove. Leann banked to dive after him, but she was so far out, it wasn't going to matter. Harry caught the snitch, pulled up, and managed to grab the back of Leann's Quidditch robes before she plummeted nose first into the pitch. Her broom shot out from under her and Harry sank down, lowering the larger girl to her feet.

"I hate diving!" was her instant scream.

Her broom had flipped a few times but landed unharmed a couple of meters away. She ran to it and instantly began inspecting it for damage.

"Nice catch," Harriett snickered, hovering a few feet away from Harry. She situated her hands properly and leapt from the broom, her hands still clutching the handle. It was the proper way to dismount a broom.

"Leann!" Katie was next to land, jumping off her broom closer to her yearmate. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine," Leann said. "Harry caught me. I told you, Katie, exhibit A why I should not be allowed to play seeker, or beater, or chaser, or _anything_ but keeper."

By then, the other players had all gathered at the bottom of the pitch.

Zach and Sebastian expressed mild concern over Leann's wellbeing, but didn't seem to worry about her too much. They, Harriett, Sapphire and Blaise all headed back for the castle. Angelina decided to accompany Katie and Leann back, but Alicia elected to stay and continue flying with Harry for some more time.

They played tag for a while, talked about Alicia's upcoming OWLs and her desperate need for people to stop nagging about them. They talked about Sarah's gift in art and the possible trainers that Harry was going to contact for the Gryffindor chasers. Most of the time, Alicia was "it" as she had trouble sticking tight on Harry's back when he started getting fancy. After they tired of tag, they flew leisurely laps and talked about random, inconsequential things. They asked each other about favorite color, hobbies, whatnot. It was a pretty bland conversation.

Until Harry dared Alicia to fly into the Gryffindor common room and disembark there.

She dared him straight back.

Harry one-uped her and said he'd fly into a girls' room.

Alicia said he couldn't, no more than they'd make it into the common room from the sky.

Harry said not only would he make it into the girls' room, but he'd beat her.

Dare on.

Alicia counted to three and they took off, racing towards the Gryffindor tower. Harry angled higher than his friend, aiming for the window that Hermione had once pointed out as being the window to her dorm. He figured that she, Pavarti and Lavender would probably mind the least. Well, maybe except Emma and big Sarah, but he wasn't really sure which window was their dorm, so he went for Hermione's. He had a lead on Alicia, but he still needed to get the window open… Ah, yes. No wand necessary. Just the, urm… right control. Right.

Harry raised his right hand from the broom and cast an unlocking charm at the window. It connected. Another spell transfigured the window into bits of sand and water; mud. It worked. It worked? Harry bent lengthwise over his broom so that he could all fit; mud showered over him. He made it through the window… _bed!_ He jumped off, snatching his broom to a standstill before it ran into one of the girl's beds. Not sparing a glance around, Harry bolted for the door, pushed passed a horrified Demelza Robbins in the hallways, and flung himself on the stairs. They turned into a slide and he _swished_ straight down into the common room.

All motion ceased.

Alicia flipped her way into the common room from the largest of the windows. Harry got to his feet just as she dismounted her broom. Angelina was standing in the still open portrait hole. The common room was fairly full and everyone was staring at either Harry or Alicia.

Harry gulped. "I won!"

Alicia snorted. "Fine, fine."

"You—you–how?!"

Harry wasn't sure who said it, but whoever went first broke the floodgates of people begging to know what had just happened and why and whatnot. And the commotion brought McGonagall in.

Harry and Alicia lost points. Harry received a Saturday night detention for entering the girls' dormitory.

It was his first detention of the year.

o.o.o.o.o.o

While McGonagall gave him the option of serving the detention the following week, Harry elected to join her immediately in her classroom. And detention with Professor McGonagall wasn't bad at all! She just said he had to work on homework or something else quiet and unassuming while she graded papers or provided office help. The only really awful thing was he had to serve it with Ron. The youngest Weasley boy still had a boatload of detentions piled on his shoulders, all stemming from when he hit Ginny and Harry. They did not choose to talk to each other.

Pallas Ingraham was in the room, getting extra help from McGonagall. She was really struggling with some aspects of whatever they were learning. Harry didn't actually _remember_ what she was practicing, so he paid close attention to what McGonagall told her. Ron left as soon as his detention was over. Pallas left shortly after that. That gave Harry time to speak with his Head of House. He was just being sure… just double checking that… well, yeah… he wanted to still be ahead of Hermione in his best classes.

McGonagall told him his ranking with some chagrin: Ancient Runes was third, Arithmancy was fifth, Astronomy was first, Care of Magical Creatures was tenth, Charms was third, DADA was first, Herbology was fourth, History of Magic was sixth, Transfiguration was sixth, and Potions was second. Harry nearly had a panic attack when he saw the Potion's rank. He knew that Rhythm was a much better teacher than Snape. He knew that he was doing better in Potions without Snape there to antagonize people, but still! He'd gone from twentieth to second!

Hermione though… she was ranked higher than him in many classes, but she was only truly first in History of Magic, Potions and Muggle Studies. Last year, she'd cleaned the board.

"Professor," Harry said as he gathered his things. "How's Hermione getting to all her classes?"

McGonagall frowned. "That's for her to worry about, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded, accepting her reply. He was Hermione's best friend. If she wanted to tell him, she'd tell him. And… maybe he'd ask her about it tomorrow. He took his things and navigated the many changes that the Hogwarts corridors were so prone to making. Oh he wished he had a map! Madam Pomfrey hadn't removed the escort orders yet, so Sal was still following him. Harry had the inkling of a feeling that Sal would keep following him even if Pomfrey said he didn't have to. Which… maybe he should look into buying Sal from Hogwarts or something like that. Having a personal house elf would be nice.

Paradise was already in the armory. This time, she was throwing knives at a backboard. Harry sighed and moved into the center circle. She hadn't told any of her friends about this place, but she also hadn't progressed as fast as it first appeared that she would. She refused to listen to the golem's suggestions. She just ordered the statues to teach her what she wanted to know and not worry about what the statues said she should know. Harry listened to the statues. He'd done enough working out for Quidditch to know that it was bad, really bad, to do something that you weren't ready for. Or something like that. So Harry was still working stances and single moves, sometimes with a knife, sometimes without a knife. He started up his routine with the third golem, as Paradise continued to throw knife after knife at the opposite wall. She ranted when she got frustrated; Harry tuned her out. She screamed when her knife wouldn't connect properly; Harry just kept working. She'd learn, he hoped. She'd learn that attacking things head on wouldn't always be the best solution. Maybe he should ask the golems about last year…

When Sal started twittering like an impatient little bird, Harry stopped his work out. Paradise had long since stopped and just stood at the edge of the chalk circle, watching. "Sir George," Harry said, "I wielded a sword last year, untrained and clumsily. It was the Sword of Godric Gryffindor."

The four statues froze back in their ordinary positions. The disembodied voice said… "Perhaps… Mr. Potter. Perhaps you may learn the art of the blade after all."

The armory went dark.

Harry wanted to moan. His life just… argh! Maybe if he had forty-eight hour days, he'd be able to learn everything he wanted to learn!

"It's not fair," Paradise groused as they slipped the invisibility cloak over their heads and headed for the Gryffindor common room. "Why do you get everything?"


	28. Paradise Lost

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Paradise Lost

Aurora took him to Gringotts that Sunday. Then it was back to school. Harry and his friends had started the grind of studying for term tests. His closest friends all cared about their grades, Hermione more than the others. Sarah and Neville struggled in some of their classes. Able struggled with magically strength. Harry wasn't really worried about the term tests, just the backlog of material he'd had to relearn from the past two years. He was all caught up in Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Astronomy. History of Magic had been more difficult to study. And it was a work in progress to get the first, second, and forth years to teach him what Lupin was teaching them. Given the state of DADA in the past few years, he wanted to learn as much as he could while a decent teacher held office.

Almost all of the third years met in one of the large empty classrooms after the afternoon Monday elective. It was Susan's birthday, so Hannah, Megan and Sally-Anne had worked to arrange a year-party. Blaise Zabini had brought along his wizard wireless and the group danced to waltzes. The wireless, Harry learned, would play anything that you wanted it to, whenever, because it was magical and wonderful like that. Harry laughed and joked with Stephan and Terry. Kevin and Anthony were trying to get Hermione and Su to dance with them, but the standoffish bookworms continually refused. Susan worked the room, talking with everyone for a little while and no one for too long. Daphne, Pavarti and Lavender had drawn Lisa and Morag into a giggle circle. Millicent, Mandy, Padma, Sally-Anne, Megan and Hannah were dancing with Justin, Theodore, Wayne, Blaise, Seamus and Dean. Ron and Ernie were in a corner, on the fringes of the group, but still somewhat included. Michael and Neville were engaged in something that looked like arm wrestling, but it wasn't exactly the same.

It was Filch who ruined the party.

The old man and his brown tabby cat shuffled into the room, glaring. He ambled over to the wizard wireless and shut it off. The third years stared at him. Lavender started to protest, but Filch just drawled. "Potter is needed in the infirmary. The rest of you are ordered to report to the Great Hall."

Harry didn't know what to do.

"Why?" Susan said, the first to break a semi-heavy silence.

Filch snarled. "Just that first year brat of his and some of her friends got beat up—"

Harry took off running.

"—no big deal," Filch finished, rather evilly.

Hermione moved to start running after Harry, but Su and Anthony held her back. Sally-Anne and Lisa pushed past Filch and chased after Harry. "Guys," Susan said, in her authority-figure voice, "Get to the Great Hall. Su, Michael, make sure Hermione and Neville get there without freaking too much. Sorry guys." She too turned and dashed after Harry.

Filch stood in the threshold, snarling. "Well? Get the Great Hall already!"

Susan ignored him. She didn't know the quickest route to the infirmary, but Sally-Anne and Lisa were still visible around almost every corner, and they knew where they were going, likely. Otherwise they were just chasing Harry and of anyone, Harry would know how to get to the hospital wing. So she followed. And hoped to Hera's golden apples that everything would be all right.

Susan caught up with Sally-Anne right outside the Hospital Wing.

Cedric Diggory and Sarah Stebbins, the Hufflepuff sixth year prefects were outside. They had let Lisa in, but kept Sally-Anne and Susan in the wings. That area was surprisingly empty. But… Susan took a slightly shuddering breath. If they'd let Lisa in, that had to mean that her younger sister Harrietta was in there. And that was a first year Hufflepuff. And _no_ one messed with a Hufflepuff without—

"Why are they screaming?" Sally-Anne said, "Why are they screaming!"

Susan listened. They were screaming. She could hear Madam Pomfrey and Professors Sprout and McGonagall and Sinistra screeching at each other, not angrily, but as if they were trying to communicate over the din. A multitude of people – young girls – were sobbing. The screams were just one person, but so filled with pain. And then…

"I'm going to kill him! I'm going to _kill _him!" That was Harry. He was screaming too.

The sobbing intensified.

Sally-Anne and Susan looked at each other, horrified. Sarah Stebbins started shaking herself. Cedric pushed through the door and dashed into the fray, leaving the girls standing outside. Professor Lupin darted passed them and into the infirmary, not saying a word. Professor Rhythm wasn't far behind. In the brief moments that the door was open, Susan saw what she wished she could long forget.

There was a mix of first year girls from all the houses, at least six of them, all clustered together. Pomfrey and Sprout were leaning over a bed, with Lisa sitting, slack-jawed and horrified on the bed beside them. Harrietta was pale, and her head was covered with some red liquid. Susan wished she didn't know what that meant. But she knew. Her aunt had come home with some pretty bad battle wounds, and not with any infrequency… Harry was a few paces away from the cluster of girls, standing beside Professor Sinistra. Cedric was with them, and he seemed to be trying to keep Harry calm. They were close enough together that Susa couldn't see who she assumed was little Paradise, but… but…

Ruth Turpin – Susan had never really liked the older girl, but they were on the same social status, so they had interacted a bit – appeared in the infirmary wings, completely frazzled. Her hair was some three different colors, textures and lengths. "What happened? Sarah, what happened?!"

Sarah stuttered. "Cedric and I, we were just… just out talking—"

Ruth's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Yeah right."

"Hey!" Sarah snapped. "Tempe broke up with him. I make a better match for him than she did anyway."

"Shut up," Ruth snarled. "Just tell me what happened to my sister!"

"We heard screaming," Sarah stammered, "Cedric insisted we go see what was happening, and there were all the first year girls, in one of the lavatories, and, and Marcus Flint, and Higgs and Montague were there, and Flint was holding Harrietta by her hair. He was yelling and saying that he was going to hurt them and make them wish they were never born. Etta was screaming and the girls were screaming and then there's that Gryffindor and she just pulls out this knife and, and she throws it at him and we couldn't stop it and—" Sarah started sobbing.

Sally-Anne whimpered and ran, away from the infirmary. She looked as though she was heading for the Great Hall. Susan shuddered.

"She missed," Sarah sobbed. "She missed and it hit Harrietta. In the head. There was so much blood. And Harrietta wasn't screaming. She wasn't screaming anymore. And then Cedric just starts hexing the Slytherins; stuns all of them, and then that Gryffindor is there and she's staring and shaking and she can't move but she keeps stuttering 'I didn't mean it' 'I didn't mean it.' Over and over. I can't get out of my head. I can't—" Sarah stopped talking.

Ruth brushed her aside and stalked into the hospital wing.

"It was awful," Sarah said, looking at her shoes. "It was so, so awful."

Susan looked down. She couldn't imagine…

o.o.o.o.o.o

The DMLE took Marcus Flint, Terrance Higgs, and Roger Montague away in handcuffs. To anyone who could think straight, Montague might have had a chance of escaping charges, based on in his family's statues, but even he was long gone from Hogwarts. Higgs and Flint didn't stand a chance. And it wasn't looking good for Montague. The girls he'd helped assault came from many different houses: a muggleborn Aster with the full alliance of Noble and Most Ancient Lord Potter, Astoria of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass, Diane of the Noble and Ancient House of Wood, Harrietta of the Noble and Ancient House of Turpin, Rowena of the Noble House of Veilson, Ruby of the Noble House of Martin, and another muggleborn. Anyone paying attention would not place in the odds in Montague's favor.

Especially given the fact that Harry Potter was mad. He was primarily mad at those Slytherins. So mad he couldn't even think about them without swearing and losing control of pieces of his magic. He was mad at Dumbledore for creating that other, alternate reality so that this was the second time Paradise had to deal with something so… horrid from a schoolmate. He was mad at Paradise's parents, just on principal. Irrationally, he was mad at Hedwig for communicating in any way that it was Dumbledore who was responsible for the past memories. He was mad that Dumbledore was still in the school. He was mad that Dumbledore and McGonagall and everyone else had allowed this to happen. He was mad that Paradise had _dared_ use a lethal weapon when he knew that she knew that she wasn't ready. He was mad that she even dared take the knife from the armory. He was mad at her for closing in on herself and not talking about it. He was mad at himself for over estimating her maturity. He was mad at himself for. Not. Pro. Tect. Ing. Her! He was her unofficial older brother. Her semi-official guardian. Her Head of House. It was his duty to keep that from happening!

And there Paradise said, quiet and empty, staring at the curtains closed around another bed, with the knowledge that she could have killed a friend of hers.

It sucked. The whole thing sucked. It sucked that he wasn't allowed to actually do anything. He wanted to take Flint and… and… and…

Harry flopped on the edge of the bed by Lisa and Ruth. All of the first years girls, excepting Harrietta, had been given calming draughts and sleeping potions, even the ones who were physically unharmed. Lord and Lady Greengrass, Mr. Wood, Mr. Turpin, Mrs. Martin, and Mr. Veilson were all gathered with Aurora, Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore in the adjacent office. They'd chased Harry out just a few minutes ago.

"You're really mad," Ruth pointed out. She was chewing on a piece of her hair.

"'course I am," Harry said.

"Are they going to prosecute your sister?" Lisa asked.

"No."

"They should," Lisa snarled.

Ruth smacked her on the back of the head. "What on earth are you talking about?!"

"She nearly killed my sister!" Lisa snapped.

"_Our_ sister."

"It's not her fault," Harry said, glaring at his yearmate. "She was scared. She wasn't aiming for Harrietta!"

"So what? No one _made_ her throw that knife."

"It was those stupid Slytherins," Ruth snarled. "They were going to, you know, those girls. They're the ones who are going to be prosecuted."

Lisa shrugged. "I still think the girl should get it."

"Shut up," Harry said.

"Don't tell me what to do."

They glared at each other.

"Just drop it, Lisa," Ruth ordered. "It's not Paradise's fault."

"Sure, take the Gryffindor side of things."

"Shut up!" Harry ordered.

"Don't give me orders!"

"Shut up, both of you." Ruth begged.

Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office and glared at the three of them. "Be quiet or I'll evict all three of you."

Lisa sighed and lay back on the bed, her hands behind her head. "Where are the other Woods, and the other siblings?"

"Harrietta was the only one actually hurt," Ruth said. "Sarah said that they wanted to keep it to us."

Lisa raised her eyebrows, pointedly glaring at Harry.

Ruth snorted. "You have no idea about Paradise, do you?"

"I know she nearly killed our sister."

Harry jumped off the bed and moved away. "You were told to shut up." He was angry. He was so very, very angry.

"Be quiet, Lisa."

Lord and Lady Greengrass exited the office and strode, briskly, through the long and narrow room. They stopped briefly over Astoria's bed, before continuing their emotionless walk. Harry stood and moved to intercept them, ignoring Ruth's hiss of warning. Harry bowed to Lord Greengrass and muttered a heartfelt apology for what had happened. He didn't want them to think poorly of him. Lord Greengrass nodded his acceptance of the apology. He laid a gloved hand on Harry's shoulder, before nudging the boy aside and continuing his walk. Lady Greengrass bowed back to Harry. They left.

Ruth and Lisa stared at him.

Harry stared back.

"She bowed to you," Lisa hissed. "She _bowed_! Oh you're gonna marry Daphne for sure."

"Shut up, Lisa. Harry's a modernist." Ruth rolled her eyes.

It was only the twenty-eighth time that Harry had heard someone say that he would find himself in a marriage contract. Once with Fae Daniels, thrice with Artemis Ingraham, once with Pallas Ingraham, once previous with Daphne, once with Susan Bones, once with Hannah Abbot, once with each of the Patils, once with Lavender Brown, four with Mary MacDonald, twice with Gracelyn Zale, four times with Persephone Grant, and six times with Selene Grant. It was truly annoying. He liked all those girls well enough; all of them were nomahs or noahs, but he just… he wouldn't… Why had his dad married his mom? If he was truly like everyone said, he could have had his pick of marriage contracts! Harry sighed and rejoined Ruth and Lisa on the side of the room.

Except each time a parent walked by, he jumped up and apologized. By the time Mr. Turpin left, Aurora had come out to escort Lisa back to the Ravenclaw tower. It was with strict orders that she told Ruth to get Harry back to the Gryffindor tower. He actually obeyed this time. All the girls were under sleeping draughts… Ruth escorted him all the way to the door of his room; the common room hadn't been empty, what with the fifth and seventh years already up late studying. And Hermione. But Hermione had been asleep at her books, so she didn't notice Harry going through. Harry tiptoed about the room, not wanting to wake his friends – or Cormac.

He gathered parchment and one of his quills and wrote as quietly as he could.

_Mr. and Mrs. Jackson_

_or the Guardians of Siân Jackson,_

_I am a fellow student at your daughter's school, and I would like to alert you of some possible drawbacks you might be unaware of given your status in the world. The school authority has, in the past, found it unnecessary to notify the non-magical parents of students when something bad has happened. Now, I do not wish to alarm you; Siân has not been hurt._

_However, this school is not a safe place. __Siân__ was a part of a group of girls who were assaulted and threatened by three older boys. She stood with her friends as these boys threatened physical harm, even t__o the extent of rape. Your daughter is an extraordinary girl._

Harry really didn't feel guilty about lying here. He liked Siân from what he'd seen of her, so it wasn't that far a stretch of the truth.

_Before any damage was done, the girls were found and the boys stopped. The three boys are now facing criminal charges and have already been expelled from this school. I tell you this not to scare you, and I beg of you to trust in Siân's gift, but only to inform. If the school has already alerted you, I am grateful and shall apologize for such a perfunctory letter. _

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Moorland_

Harry stared at the signature. It was more than possible that Siân would have mentioned him. But then if her parents asked him about a Harry Moorland, she'd probably know the answer as well. It wouldn't give him much anonymity. Well, in a school the size of Hogwarts, could anyone have any anonymity? Harry magically erased the Moorland and signed the letter

_Harry King_

_post script: Should you wish to respond, the owl __will wait while you compose a letter. Feel free to use regular paper and pen should you require._

He didn't need to visit the owlery. He'd convinced Cormac that Hedwig was his familiar and she needed to stay in the room with them. Neville and Able had been very supportive. And his bond with the beautiful white owl had only strengthened. Harry folded the letter, addressed it to "the guardians of Siân Jackson" and tied it to Hedwig's leg. She was good a finding people like that. Hedwig winged off into the night.

Harry went to bed.

But he couldn't go to sleep.

o.o.o.o.o.o

At breakfast the following morning, people could not stop talking about what had happened the night before. None of the girls had shown up, so it was really just Cedric, Sarah, Harry, Lisa and Ruth who really knew what had happened. And Harry didn't want to talk about it. And Hermione was in a pestering mood, so he left his friends at the Gryffindor table and sat down with Sally-Anne and Megan. The two Hufflepuffs looked like they hadn't gotten much sleep, especially Sally-Anne. They didn't talk. Harry appreciated that.

The pureblood fanatic end of the Slytherin table was more empty, and even more lonesome. No one even dared go within four plate settings of the cluster. There was only six left; Maria Flint, Elizabeth Higgs, Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe. And they were arguing, mostly with Goyle. Harry ate and watched, lidding his eyes so that the six of them didn't notice. Towards the end of the meal, Goyle jumped to his feet, spat at Malfoy, and stalked away from them. He eluded Maria's claws and reached Sally-Anne's side.

"Em, excuse me," Goyle stuttered, "Miss Perks, would you mind if I joined you?"

Sally-Anne gave him a million-watt smile and the boy sat down. Chatter in the Great Hall had effectively stopped. Now no one could hide the fact that the Slytherins were being stared at.

Goyle raised his nose in the air.

Megan shifted, a little uncomfortably, and Harry didn't really know what to say. It was all a little weird. "So, Greg," Sally-Anne said, "do you think the snap-dragons are going to survive the winter?"

The burly boy's eyes widened, "If they're still being cared for, yeah…"

And it clicked for Harry. Greg was one of the four natural growers in the third year. He'd know Sally-Anne, Hannah and Neville better than most, right? "The snap-dragons are in Greenhouse 4, right?"

"Yeah," Greg muttered.

Hannah plopped down next to Harry and joined the Herbology conversation. And then it was time to go to class. Before they left, Harry asked Hannah to tell Kevin to watch out for Goyle during the DADA class that the Ravenclaws and Slytherins shared, third period. He wasn't sure how the other Ravenclaws and even the good Slytherins would react… He could do it himself during Potions. If they actually gained Goyle's alliance—

Part of Harry didn't want to. He wanted to push Goyle away and be really mean to the boy, but he'd spat at Malfoy and that was just plain cool. So he would accept Goyle on the same probationary standard that he held Ron too. They could be cordial so long as Goyle didn't step out of line again.

And a part of Harry desperately wanted Greg to be effective in his default. Greg leaving the other side, and the three older Slytherins gone would leave the diehard Slytherin purists with only five. Five out of a hundred and three. 5.15 percent of the school. Effectively nothing. They'd already cut Malfoy's power base out from under him. With Goyle on the good side, it was another blow to the dark. It was childish, but it made that haughty part of Harry very happy.

Harry found Paradise and her timid cluster of first year girls and walked them to their history class. Harrietta was still in the hospital, but the others had all been ordered to attend classes. And none of them wanted to walk through the hallways alone. And so Harry found himself escorting a clump of ten Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs to the History of Magic wing. Paradise, Vicky, Lily, Ogden, Harry Bellwood, Siân, Diana, the Engleston twins – Vanity and Clarity, and Harry Addison. The last was the son of Hermione's favorite new reporter, but they didn't talk much about that. Other first years arrived in clusters, almost all of them with an older escort as well. With the first years safely in History of Magic, Harry raced for the new Potion's wing.

Professor Rhythm was not a fan of the dungeons. Still, Harry was late. He slipped inside and walked to his lap station. "Mr. Potter?" Rhythm prompted.

"I was walking the first years," Harry said, shrugging. He didn't care if that lost him points.

"Very well."

Well. Sweet. But the partners had shifted again. And Harry found himself paired with Pavarti Patil. She spent the whole period looking like she'd just sucked on rotten lemons. Those who had arrived on time had picked their own partners… Hermione and Tracey, Neville and Greg (thankfully), Dean and Seamus, Lavender and Daphne, Millicent and Blaise, Theodore and Ron (to both their displeasure), Malfoy and Crabbe, and that left Pansy by herself. Well, actually, Rhythm told her to work with whatever group she wanted, so she just attached herself to Malfoy and Crabbe (to the boys' displeasure).

Pavarti chattered while they worked, but it was mostly idle and harmless and he didn't really have to pay attention. He did get annoyed but the frustrated glances that Pavarti would throw Lavender and Daphne every now and again. By letting Daphne into their group, they'd have to get used to working as a trio and just some whining about it! And Harry had plenty of experience balancing a trio. Not that Ron or Hermione made that easy, he thought rather bitterly.

None of the Slytherins really paid much attention to Gregory, but Harry did catch Blaise and Theo tossing him some tentative glances. Good. If the two boys could accept him, he'd be set. Potions dragged on for two periods. It was torture. And he couldn't leave half-way through to make sure Paradise got to her next class safely! He wasn't really worried that she wouldn't, but it still felt nice to actually _know…_

Harry flashed back to the other reality, the dream reality, the Dumbledore induced reality…

It had just been whispers, nothing confirmed. Just that Flint had done something horrible and gotten away with it. Harry didn't know. Harry didn't care. He was enjoying his anonymity. He didn't care to notice a first year Gryffindor struggling to recover from being raped. He didn't care to notice siblings being mean to siblings. He didn't care to notice anything!

He hadn't been a good person, decided the current Harry. And he'd definitely become more Hufflepuff-ish in the reality since that.

Not that that was a bad thing.

Pavarti asked a question and Harry managed to respond with something at least somewhat related to her question. She graced him with a big smile and Harry let some of his worries go. It was always better to heal than… than compartmentalize.

Or so he'd been told.


	29. Hufflepuff

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hufflepuff

Harry sat with his five closest friends and tried to forget about the past two days. He kept picturing the knife set he'd bought for Paradise; there was no way he'd gift those to her now.

"It's just plain sense!" Hermione said. "You may have more fourth years, but those in our team are much smarter. Sure, Morag and Mandy might struggle a bit against you guys, but Su, Lance and I don't need them!"

Able scowled. "Nora's a match for Lance any day. Besides, Su is primarily a charms specialist, just like you've become."

"So what? Bradley and Sampson are the ones running our age group and Sampson's certainly a charms specialist. We'll get more charms questions!"

"All six of the seventh years write the questions," Able retorted. "And some of the professors! There's not going to be more on one subject than another. And our team is much more well-rounded than you could hope to be. Right Harry?"

Hermione bristled. Harry just started saying "yes" and "no" in many alternate languages. Neville, whom had learned many of the simple affirmatives and negatives, snickered. Sarah smacked Harry on the back of his head and returned to her pencil sketch of Vivant, the phoenix patroni. Harry returned to his language book. Neville returned to his transfiguration homework. Able and Hermione argued on.

The seventh years had set the first Ravenclaw Intelligence Bowl for the weekend before everyone left for the holidays. Paul Nelson had announced that festivities would start Friday afternoon, with the first year and second year division. Saturday would be the third and fourth year divisions. And Sunday would be for the fifth/sixth year divisions. It would all culminate in formal Yule Ball Sunday night, where the winners and the holidays would be celebrated. When Paul had announced that at dinner on Monday, Dumbledore had gotten especially twinkly in the eye. Harry hated that twinkle. And Paul had only given people a week to pair up for the dance. It was frustrating.

Aria Sinistra poked Harry on the shoulder. "Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Paradise isn't here," said his adoptive cousin. "She left dinner early, saying she was going back to the dorms. Ogden went with her, but Ogden's here and Paradise isn't and we don't know where she went!"

Harry sighed. "It's all right, Aria. I'll go find her."

Aria worried her lip between her teeth. "Is she going to be okay?"

"Not emotionally," Harry grumbled darkly. He left his stuff with Neville and headed for the portrait hole. Aria followed him. Inwardly, he debated whether or not to tell her to stay behind. Paradise was more than likely in the armory, but Aria had fairly decent common sense, right? She wouldn't go and ruin everything. Well, not more than it had already been ruined.

Harry let the girl follow him out the portrait hole, down a few flights of stairs, through a numerous amount of corridors, and into the dead end hallway that led to the armory. Sure enough, Paradise was there. She wasn't practicing and the golems weren't awake. She just sat in the center of the white circle, her arms wrapped around her knees and her head buried against her legs. Harry instantly knew that she'd been crying.

"What is this place?" Aria whispered.

Harry shushed her. He crossed the room and sat down next to Paradise.

"I didn't mean to," Paradise whispered with a hiccup. "I just wanted to hurt Flint. I just wanted to make him leave us alone. I was so scared. It was so awful… last time."

"Last time was a dream," Harry said, gently. "He can't hurt you anymore."

"But he can!" Paradise sniffled. "He can. And he can hurt others. And I hurt Harrietta. I'm just as bad—"

"Paradise!" Harry interrupted her. "What you did was an accident, you're not to blame!"

"If I hadn't thrown the knife, if I hadn't thought that I was good enough—"

"Stop blaming yourself," Harry ordered. "Those boys are the ones who hurt your friends, not you."

Paradise sniffled and didn't respond.

Aria moved deeper into the room; she came to stand beside the other two. "You did the right think, Para. You did the brave thing. And you can't obsess over it! Let us help you."

Paradise looked up at her yearmate. "But I hur—"

"You didn't," Aria insisted. "And Harrietta recognizes that, Diana says so!"

Paradise didn't looked convinced.

"C'mon," Aria wheedled, "Diana's the only one who's been allowed to see Etta, and when have you even known Diana to lie?"

"Never," Paradise admitted.

"Harrietta is not going to hold this against you," Harry said. "She's okay. She's going to be completely okay."

"Okay," Paradise said, softly. "But I'm not going to train anymore! I'm not going to touch another knife!"

Neither Harry nor Aria argued with that. "Why don't you girls head back to the common room?" Harry suggested. "It's not long until your curfew."

Aria nodded and helped Paradise to her feet. The latter looked really scared to go out into the hallways unprotected, but – as much as he wanted to – Harry wasn't going to escort them. Of all things, Paradise needed to not let her fear rule her. With much prompting by Aria, the two girls left.

Harry stood in the white circle for just a few moments, until he was sure that they were gone. He woke the golems. He trained for two hours, barely stopping, barely taking a drink or a rest. He worked out his anger on the animate machines. It was late when Sal literally dragged Harry from his workout and back to the common room. The little elf was fit to be tied given Harry's state of mind and how hard he was working himself. It was rather adorable, how much the elf ranted and raved against him.

o.o.o.o.o.o

The nightmares came back that night. Not only for Harry and Paradise, but for Vicky. For Harrietta and Diana. For many of the first and second year girls. For some of the boys too. For Emma MacDonald. For Lisa and Ruth Turpin. For Sally Wood. For Zach Wood. Harry woke, just after one, from a nightmare and from Hedwig's gentle push. She'd gotten back!

Harry let his familiar in and tugged open the letter. He really didn't want to read this—

_Mr. King,_

_My name is Alexander Hallabrand and I am Siân's step-father. My wife, Elena Hallabrand, is with me. We were most disturbed to read your letter regarding our daughter's safety. First and foremost, is Siân okay? You have mentioned she is, but please forgive our worry. Secondly, what punishment faces these boys? Why would the school choose not to notify us? Where any others hurt? And, Mr. King, why would you take it upon yourself to notify us? What is your involvement with the school in general and our daughter?_

_Sincerely,_

_Alexander and Elena Hallabrand_

Harry wasn't close to falling back asleep. He picked up a piece of parchment and a quill and spread it out on his bedside desk.

_Mr. and Mrs. Hallabrand,_

_As I have already mentioned, I am a student. I am in my third year of study and am in the House of Gryffindor. Should you be unclear, Hogwarts students reside in four different and equal houses, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Gryffindor. Your daughter is a part of the noble House of Hufflepuff. My younger sister, also a first year, is friends with your daughter. The two of them were together, along with five other girls when they were attacked. Your daughter means a lot to my sister and because of that, she means a lot to me. Only one of the girls was hurt, cut by a knife, and she has already made a full recovery._

_While I am unclear of the legal repercussions that these boys will face, they were immediately expelled from Hogwarts and shall have no further contact with your daughter. And the question of safety… Siân is as safe at Hogwarts as she would be anywhere else. I cannot guarantee her safety, but I can tell you that should she continue to study magic, she will definitely become more fit to take care of herself and provide for her own measure of safety._

_Your other questions are more difficult for me to answer. Last year, a number of muggleborn students were injured by a magical monster. While ultimately these children were physically fine, their non-magical parents remained unknowing about such injury. To compound the problem, when a magical child was injured, her parents were notified immediately. The reason behind such actions taken by the Hogwarts staff is unclear to me and I can only speculate that they worry about repercussions. As far as visiting the injured students, Hogwarts remains inaccessible to non-magical parents, and I can imagine that knowing your son or daughter is injured and not being able to visit must simply make matters worse._

_I am still of the opinion that parents should be notified. And so I wrote to you, hoping that the school might have notified you of Siân's misfortunate, but not optimistic that such action had happened. Do note that Madam Poppy Pomfrey, our school nurse, is a fully qualified and very gifted magical equivalent of a doctor. She has helped me with many a health problem._

_Should you have any further questions about the magical world in general, I would be more than willing to attempt to answer them._

_Regards,_

_Harry King_

He gave the letter to Hedwig and told her to rest before flying off. Not that she listened to him, of course. Harry lay back on his bed, his eyes and mind open. He could feel, through the empathy links that Katie was helping him establish, the restless uncertainty of sleep that faced many of the Gryffindor students. It was a little overwhelming, how full of bad dreams the dormitories was. Harry desperately hoped that Katie, who was more sensitive than he was, would be able to block out the nightmares of others.

Sometimes, the empathetic powers sucked.

But other powers didn't. Harry took a deep breath. He'd owled Vince Kensington and gotten a book on the Mind Arts. He and Katie, who needed Occlumency the most, had been semi-successfully working on shielding their minds to the empath ability. More complete shielding would have to follow. Self-learning Occlumency had also helped him channel what little talent at eidetic memorization he'd picked up from Hermione. He could now morph, if only for a few seconds, even when Ruth or Tonks weren't nearby. He was still meeting with the auror twice a week during the mornings. She was confident he'd be a full metamorph in at least two years. And wandless magic wasn't a problem anymore. He still used the rock sticks to dampen some of his power, but casting through the sticks was almost easy now. And it had only been a week! Each day in Herbology, he got better and better at actually reading the plants and what those plants needed and wanted. Neville, Hannah, Sally-Anne and now Greg, were slowly giving him the ability of a natural healer. And Sal, as promised, had started helping him learn elf magic. He was comfortable in reading and writing Latin and Sanskrit, Mermish and Gobbledygook. The other languages, and especially the verbal recognition were slower going.

But he'd come unbelievable far since he went and talked to Professor McGonagall, not two months ago. Two months were he could barely remember stopping to breathe! He was learning and he loved it and maybe he had a bit more Ravenclaw in him than everyone thought.

Harry lay awake, just thinking. There was a week until the Intelligence Bowl and then Christmas vacation started. And Christmas vacation would be rather full. There really wasn't a day throughout the whole two week vacation that he didn't have something planned. It would be a lot of fun. Especially because only Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were assigning any real homework. And Flitwick's assignment wasn't even real homework as much as a puzzle hunt. It was the kind of homework that drove Hermione insane because there wouldn't be any real right answer. At least, that's what Flitwick had told his students. He hadn't announced what the assignment actually was yet.

The Christmas bug had completely bitten the school, Harry reflected. There were decorations sprouting up all over the place and people were singing Christmas songs in the hallway… Sure, it had been subdued the past few days, but even Sirius Black couldn't dampen the holiday spirit.

Harry sighed and rolled over. He really did need some sleep.

o.o.o.o.o.o

The first time Harry saw the Hufflepuff common room, he was astonished.

The room had a low ceiling, but it was sprawling room, filled with chairs and couches and gaming tables and a large pool tucked in one corner. The Hufflepuffs had a _pool_?! It was awesome. It wasn't overwhelmingly yellow and black, but several nice shades of tan, accented by almost every color of the rainbow. One of the walls had a grand mural on it, depicting a piece of the history of Hogwarts. Another wall had the names of every single graduate of the Hufflepuff house scrawled on in many different colors of ink. A third wall was covered with notes written to current members of the house – written by other members. From what Harry could see, that wall was self-cleansing. And then the first wall was painted a light tan with many multi-colored, small handprints pressed against it. It was labeled "the first years wall."

The Hufflepuff common room was truly spectacular.

And Harry was in it because Susan had asked him to come and speak with Siân.

Which made him more than a little nervous.

Susan, Hannah, Megan and Sally-Anne (the Hufflepuff pack) pointed Harry towards a corner where Siân was folded into a small arm chair. She was staring at a textbook, but even from a distance, Harry could tell that she wasn't really reading the book. He meandered over to the small girl and sat down beside her. "Hey Siân."

"It's pronounced _shar__rn_," she corrected. "'lo Harry."

"Sorry," Harry muttered. "You wanted to talk with me?"

"You wrote my parents?"

"Yeah."

"Because the school didn't notify them about, about, you know."

"Yeah."

She shivered. "But why'd you write them?"

"Because they deserved to know."

"But I'm fine."

Harry was vaguely away of the four Hufflepuff third year girls watching them from a distance. "I know you are. But Hermione and Justin and Colin weren't fine and their parents weren't notified."

Siân looked at him, confused. "Colin Creevey?"

"Yeah."

"Was he hurt? Is that why he's in some of our classes?"

Harry nodded. "He was petrified last year. For a really long while."

"Oh. Well, I guess… Thanks for notifying my parents. Just," Siân paused, "why'd you lie to them? About your name?"

Harry looked down. "I didn't lie. I just didn't use my first last name."

She giggled. "That makes NO sense."

Harry grinned at her. "King is just one of my last names. Officially, I'm Harry Potter-Moorland-Aragon-Fallus-Arthure-Enon-Spinnet -Nanth-Bartholomew-Carine, but those are just the noble last names. I've got a lot more. Like thirty something."

"That's excessive."

"Tell me about it."

"Is… is the wizarding world really as anti-muggleborn as it seems?" Her voice was small, pleading.

"Yes."

"Oh."

Harry didn't know what to tell her or what would make her feel better.

"You told my parents I should stay," Siân whispered. "But they think I should leave. Sally-Anne's even contemplating leaving."

Harry looked up at Sally-Anne in shock.

"Do you really think I should stay in the wizarding world?"

"Yes," Harry said, instantly. "I think that magic is wonderful and amazing and I think that this generation, our generation, is the key to making some of the old prejudices go away. You've seen what happened with Slytherin this year; you probably weren't really around to really, really see how they changed."

"Astoria's one of my closest friends," Siân said, shrugging. "But it was Slytherins who attacked us."

"It was the Slytherins who hadn't turned," Harry corrected her. "And they were a small minority within the school."

Siân nodded. "I really do love magic."

"Awesome," Harry said.

"Thanks for coming," Siân said, quietly. "I needed… I needed to hear this."

"My pleasure."

Siân grinned. "Wanna go swimming?"

Harry blinked. "I don't know how."

She gaped, astonished. "_Hannah_!" The Hufflepuff pack came running. Siân pointed at Harry, still astonished. "He doesn't know how to swim!"

"We can rectify that!" Hannah said, laughing.

Harry felt like bashing his head against a table. The four Hufflepuff girls looked suspiciously like Katie and the fourth year Gryffindor girls had looked like when he first started this ridiculous campaign to get to know everyone. Still, the Hufflepuff third, second, and first years all had an impromptu swimming party that Wednesday night in the Hufflepuff indoor pool. It was awesome. It wasn't everyone from the three years, but it was still twenty-two people. They taught Harry how to handle himself in the pool, and just started playing pool games. The magical pool had expanded so that all twenty-two kids fit comfortably. It was awesome. Harry exhausted himself, just by swimming around and playing ridiculous games like Marco Polo. It was so much fun!

He left in time to make it back to the Gryffindor common room before curfew, but nearly all the Hufflepuffs had impressed on him that he had a standing invitation to come back any time he wanted to.

He honestly believed that wasn't nearly enough hours in the day to accomplish all that he wanted to accomplish.

Back at the Gryffindor common room, Kenneth Towler and Emma MacDonald were engaged in a battle of This-Person-Is-That – a Kenneth-invented game that tested two people's knowledge about various people in the wizarding world. Angelina Johnson was officiating, and nearly the entire Gryffindor house was watching. Most were cheering on Emma, as she was a bit of an underdog. Kenneth's impeccable knowledge of people was unanimously considered rather stalkerish. Harry joined Sarah and Ritchie Coote as they watched the battle blare on.

Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Harry figured she was probably with her Bowl Team. Paradise was with her first year friends, watching the battle and eating Weasley-twin provided popcorn. She was laughing, or at least appearing to laugh. That was good.

Oh Harry loved this school!

He loved magic.

He loved learning.

And he now loved his life.


	30. March of the Intelligent Maniacs

Chapter Thirty

March of the Intelligent Maniacs

Friday evening, most of the Ravenclaws, good Slytherins, and smart Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs gathered in the auditorium.

Harry had been asked to help Lee Jordan announce for the first division. He really was struggling to learn how to say no. He and Lee met with seventh year Hufflepuff, Daffodil Daywood, who would be announcing all three events. Lee was doing the second and third divisions. That was during lunch on Friday. To Harry's dismay, Paul Nelson had had to move the Bowl into the Great Hall, because things were quickly spinning out of control. A few of the teams from the first division had gotten in trouble for hexing their rivals. It was just as big as Quidditch! Bigger, 'cause nearly all of the fifth and sixth years had ended up involved, just due to numbers. There were eight teams in the first two divisions – forty students in each division, and then five teams in the third division, due to limited numbers of fifth and sixth years.

Classes had been canceled Friday afternoon; McGonagall said it was a holiday treat, but everyone knew she was just as psyched for these Intelligence Bowls as Flitwick, Vector and Babbling were. At two pm, Harry met Daffodil in the redecorated Great Hall. All House colors had been removed and the ceiling was just a drab gray. The tables were gone, turned into eight short but straight tables, obviously designed for five students. In the back, rows and rows of bleachers had been added for other students to watch if they wished. The buzz in the school was astronomical. Harry and Daffodil would be announcing from the dais were the staff table was. Daffodil had to help Harry with his _sonorus_ charm., but they were both in place by the time the forty first and second years arrived. There was some chaos as the midgets darted about to find the appropriate tables and hurled insults at each other.

Each of the teams had a name. Harry had to say that his favorite was Harriett's team. They were dressed in horrid, fluorescent orange, proudly declaring their name to be the "Orange Invasion." He and Daffodil shared a snicker over that as they analyzed the potential teams. The first division would be shorter than the second and third, which could easily end up lasting all day, but the seventh years had designed the challenges for first and second years to be a bit shorter. Spectators began filling the conjured bleachers at around two-fifteen and at two-thirty, Paul gave the signal to begin.

"Welcome!" Harry shouted over the din. People began settling down. "To the First Annual Open Intelligence Bowl!"

Daffodil took over. "Today, please Welcome representatives from the first and second years." Applause. She proceeded to introduce each team and the members there off. Vicky Frobisher, Emerald Zale, Ogden Wester, Andrew Kirke, Charles Loch and Jack Sloper were six of the forty competitors. This first division was the only time where there were more Ravenclaws than other students. When Daffodil finished introducing the students, Harry stepped forward to actually introduce the competition.

"Today, we'll present these students with three challenges. One will be a timed cooperative test, one a puzzle hunt that leads to one specific answer, and the third will be a head-to-head round robin of quick-fire questions. Over the course of the event, points will be given for correct answers, originality, and teamwork. I introduce to your our officials: Paul Nelson, Penelope Nelson, Adriana Sampson, Matthew Bradley, Miguel Chambers, Icarus Crane, Io Crane, Sarah Bathsheba, and Poseidon Grant! Let the games begin!"

Each table had an official, with Paul bouncing between tables. When Harry began to the games, each group was handed a set of questions to which they were supposed to record their answers to. That set of questions tested basic knowledge and facts ranging from the depths of the muggle world to the workings of Wizengamots. From pop culture references to past events. Daffodil also flashed a copy of the test on the wall behind the dais, so that spectators could read the various questions. She commented on the questions while Harry threw in observations about how the eight teams appeared to be doing. The two of them worked fairly well together, and would bounce comments and banter off of each other while the eight teams worked. They had been given forty-five minutes to handle fifty questions.

A group named the Hoggie Hoggie Heroes got in a fight over one of the questions. Daffodil and Harry laughed at it, encouraging the group to fight. The "Pixie Dust" team was a group of girls – which included Vicky and Emerald – and they did really well working together. However, the only group to finish in the given time was Melissa Ackerley's group of second years, named "Lenore, Lenore." The spectators were rooting for specific groups and the officials tallied up the scores to give to Daffodil. She got to announce the scores.

"Lenore, Lenore, with 78 points."

"Pixie Dust, with 72 points."

"Boom!, with 60 points."

"Ravenpuff, with 58 points."

"Keys of Invention, also with 58 points."

"Orange Invasion, with 56 points."

"Dragon Power, with 52 points."

"and Hoggie Hoggie Heroes with 50 points!"

It was a little Hufflepuff that Harry didn't know who cried out – "This is hard!" He got a ton of laughs.

The officials handed out the next part of the test and gave the teams two hours to complete the puzzle quest. It was mostly older Ravenclaws and Hermione who stuck around to watch this, so Harry and Daffodil didn't keep up a constant stream of comments. By the end of the puzzle quest, even the most dedicated of older students had left to go study or do something else that was more interesting than watching a bunch of midgets poor over puzzles. In the end, only Orange Invasion, Ravenpuff, and Pixie Dust managed to correctly solve the riddle. Lenore, Lenore, Boom!, and Dragon Power got over three quarters of the way to the correct answer, while Keys of Invention and the Hoggie Hoggies Heroes were left in the dust. Harry inwardly cheered for the girls of Pixie Dust. Vicky, Emerald, Astoria, Ruby and a second year Ravenclaw Eloise Midgen, apparently made a really good team.

The round robin was a series of ten questions presented to two teams. Each team member had a buzzer with which they could buzz in and answer the question. The question had to be answered by the student who buzzed, and if they incorrectly answered the question, they'd lose their team points. Pixie Dust didn't do too well in their matches, and Lenore, Lenore climbed back into first place. More people showed up to watch the end of this round, mostly because it was nearly dinner time and people were hungry. In the end, Daffodil announced the points given each team, as well as who placed where.

"With 104 points, the Hoggie Hoggie Heroes."

"With 108 points, Keys of Invention."

"With 123 points, the Dragon Power."

"With 135 points, Boom!"

"With 140 points, the Orange Invasion."

"And in third place, with 146 points, the Ravenpuff!"

"And in second place, with 152 points, the Pixie Dust!"

"And our first division champions, with 160 points, goes to Lenore, Lenore."

"Congratulations!"

It took a few minutes for the seventh years to return the Great Hall to the round tables that, while still not common, had become very popular among the Hogwarts students. It was a festive air that permeated the Great Hall during dinner. Vicky and Emerald and their team were ecstatic had having done so well against Melissa Ackerley, Lionel Daniels, Rachel Madley, Yvonne Peaks, and Miles Bulstrode, who had been the favored team from the beginning. The five girls bounced around like energizer bunnies during the whole meal.

Harry ate with Able, Eddie, Nora and Persephone. They didn't talk much. But they were ready. Tomorrow, they'd be more than ready.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Nine am found Harry already in the Great Hall. The rest of his teammates were there and already situated at their assigned table. Hermione was with Su and her teammates. The surprise on Hermione's team was Susan Bones; everyone thought that when Su dropped Elizabeth Higgs, they'd pick up Mandy Brocklehurst, but apparently that hadn't happened. Queenie, Eliza and Mary were on a team with Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecrombie. Harry knew everyone competing, if only because he knew all of the third years and a majority of the fourth years. At nine-fifteen, Paul Nelson conjured a ninth competition table. He got a bunch of weird glances.

And at nine-thirty, Lee Jordan welcomed everyone to the event. And then Daffodil introduced the teams. And then Lee jumped in and introduced a challenge team, a team with no Ravenclaws, who wanted to prove that they could beat the house of ravens. And given that the five students who walked out of wings were Selene Grant, Julius Vaisey, Katie Bell, Tracey Davis and Neville Longbottom, Harry didn't doubt that they could. He snickered at the thought of the twins taken more bets at even better odds. They'd never miss out on another money making opportunity.

They started with the written test; fifty questions in forty-five minutes. Two points for each correct answer. And it was hard. Harry and Persephone started at the bottom and worked up. Able and Nora started at the top and worked to the bottom. Eddie started around question twenty-five. Every time that someone came across a question that they didn't know the answer to, they asked the assigned specialist. Nora was muggle studies, divination and charms, Persephone was wizard culture and history and everything miscellaneous, Eddie was potions, care of magical creatures, and herbology, Able was astronomy and transfiguration, Harry was ancient runes, arithmancy, DADA, and pop culture. Their system worked so that the question that needed answering would be referred to as "Persephone, 6" and she'd go attend to question six. It was a good system. And it got them 92 points. Thing was, Su's group got 94 and Selene's group punched in an 88. The next closest group had 68 points.

The next set of questions was thirty-three questions in forty-five minutes. Three points for each correct answer. And these questions were really hard. There was more application of logic and people sense necessary for this question. Three questions were even written in Latin, but Harry could translate that one easily enough. Able struggled with the more abstract questions, but Persephone and Eddie did well. Harry and Nora just picked the questions they thought they could answer and worked on those. Able checked their solutions. They got 72 points from that round, Selene's group got 75, and Su's group to 78. Some of the other teams started griping and moaning about the difficulty of the test.

During the next hour, the teams were presented with a never ending list of questions from a variety of disciplines. Each question was worth one point and questions were presented ten at a time. When each question was answered or forfeited, a new list of questions would be presented. Harry and his teammates sped through those questions, Nora immediately looking at the first two, Eddie numbers three and four, Harry questions five and six, Able seven and eight, and Persephone the last couple of questions. It was a quick fire exchange of specialty information, but often enough, everyone but Able was well rounded enough to be able to answer the simpler questions. The older Gryffindor was quickly getting frustrated, but he shouldered on. In the end, they won 137 points. Selene's team won 131 points, and Su's team won 135 points. At the lunch break, What's HAP'ENing had 301 points, Su's team led with 307 points and Selene's group had 294. There were two other teams within fifty points of the surprise group, but that the only real competition was the three front runners.

It wasn't all that surprising. One of the teams consisted of Hannah, Daphne, Pavarti, Padma and Lisa. The two Ravenclaws could only pull that team so far. And the other team of all girls was doing depressingly awful as well. Kevin, Justin, Theo, Blaise, and Anthony were putting up a good fight, but they didn't have any of the fourth year experience. Terry, Dean, Michael, Ernie and Logan Reinhold had the fourth year, but they were still in third to last place. The Robbins sisters, Leann Hooch, Mandy Brocklehurst and Millicent Bulstrode were ranked behind Selene, with 248 points. Behind them was a group of boys consisting of Marcus Belby, Stephan Cornfoot, Wayne Hopkins, Zacharias Smith, and Franklin Stebbins, with 244 points. The lunch break lasted half an hour.

Most of the students were reaching mental exhaustion when the three hour puzzle hunt started. And it was hard. The seventh years and professors were good at linking things together and hiding things behind obscurities and trick sentences. No wands were allowed, so at one point, Harry had to put on everyone's outer robes (he was the only one who'd fit in everyone's robes) so that he'd heat up so he could release hot breath on the parchment to reveal some hidden message. It was hard, in a drafty Scottish castle near the end of December, to get anywhere near warm. And this puzzle hunt was more exhausting than any of the term exams they'd just taken. The last question related back to the previous answers, but Able had taken detailed notes about all the previous questions and answers, so they turned in their answer just five minutes before the three hours ended.

Some five minutes before Harry's group finished, Demelza's and Dakota's group could be heard – all sounding very frustrated – as they tried to remember all the previous answers. No one at Harry's table said a word, but they shared some very satisfied smirks. The last five minutes ticked away and only two other groups reached the end of the puzzle; the group of all third year girls and Selene's group. Victory was an additional hundred points. Each riddle left unsolved progressed backwards by two points. Su and Hermione's team only received 92 points.

So scores stood with Harry's team at 401, Su's team at 399, Selene's team at 394, the Robbins' sisters at 346, Stephan's team at 328, Kevin's team at 325, Terry's team at 312, Padma's group at 305, and Cho's team at 298.

And they went into head to head competitions. Everyone had four head to head matches, and the top three all had to face each other. It was nightmarish. Everyone was exhausted. Able ended up answering most of the questions posed to their team. Neville and Tracey did likewise for the challenge team. Su, Hermione, Morag, Lance and Susan fell apart as a team. Susan and Morag started screaming at each other during another team's match. It was not pretty. Pavarti Patil broke down in tears and pleaded to be let out of the competition. Horizon Zale looked like she'd felt very much like doing the same. Harry's team lost to Selene, but beat Su's, Terry's and Stephan's teams. Selene beat Harry, Su and Padma but lost to the Robbins and Leann. Su lost to both Selene and Harry, but beat Cho and Kevin. The rest of the matches were a toss out, with Demelza's group actually coming out on all four of their battles.

Each victory was worth twenty points. Which left What's HAP'ENing with 461 points, Selene's team with 454 points, Su's team with 439 points, and the Robbins' with 426. No one else came anywhere near that podium of four. Victory was theirs.

And exhausted victory, but victory nonetheless.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry chose to watch nearly all of the fifth and sixth year competition. It was great. Alicia, Angelina, Patricia, Fred and George had chosen to enter as a challenge group, and it was obvious to everyone that they were going to get crushed. The favorite for victory was a team of entirely sixth year boys: Cedric Diggory, Vale Kensington, Daniel Bole, Zachary Waller, and Steven Vector. The three Towlers had paired with Penelope Clearwater and Elizabeth Thorn, but no one gave them much credit; Penelope had missed too much, even if she was naturally brilliant. One of the teams was a mix of sixth and fifth year girls, all with some nobility in them; they were widely considered for second place. It was a good match up to watch.

While the five Gryffindors failed to provide any sort of challenge, the Towlers, and surprisingly, a team Jacob Dare, Chastity Regan, Declan Hopkins, Rodger Davis, and Samantha Fawcett did fairly well.

But no one could touch the sixth year boys. They aced the first test, did well on the second, racked up a score of over two hundred on the never-ending test. They had cleared the 400 point mark with only three tasks behind them. The Towler team, and Fawcett's team hovered in the mid-300s at the end of those three tests. And the puzzle hunt was great, because the seventh years had actually made it so that it required use of the whole castle. Each common room played a role and many of the other rooms as well. The seventh years had rigged giant monitors in the common room and asked everyone to attend, so that there weren't too many people in the common room and hallways. It was great. The Gryffindor team finished within two hours. No one could believe how well they did, but it did appear like the Weasley twins had some kind of map that helped them navigate the hallways. They were the only team all from one house, yet someone, they managed to hoodwink their ways into the other common rooms as well. It was crazy!

The Towlers and the sixth year boys were the only other ones to complete the puzzle hunt. They were the two teams who had members from every house. They and the twins were given a hundred points for success. The presiding body of seventh years also gave the Gryffindor group an extra fifty points for completely the hunt so quickly, but they were so far out of the running that it didn't matter.

The head to heads were really cool. Because there were only six teams, everyone had to go against everyone. In their matches with everyone but the Towlers, the Weasley twins would buzz in and give the wrong answer. They lost over a hundred points, but also prevented everyone but the Towlers from gaining points. And, besides, the head to head was where Penelope Clearwater got her revenge.

She got her revenge for falling from her position as Ravenclaw Queen. She got her revenge on Percy. She got her revenge on the staff. And she got the Towler team within ten points of the sixth year boys. They still lost, but they were far closer than most expected them to be. Harry grinned. He'd made money on them. He hadn't bet they'd come in first, but second had seemed like a good bet, and everyone was placing them right in front of the Gryffindor five… And while Harry wasn't particularly worried that he'd ever run out of money, this was just some spending cash…

o.o.o.o.o.o

Everyone scattered almost immediately after the point spread was announced. The Yule Ball would start in an hour and girls had been complaining all day that they'd never have enough time to get ready. Harry loved his and his escort's outfits for the ball. He'd had to get Julius Regan to specially make the dress robes for the look he wanted to achieve, but the overall effect would be spectacular. He'd asked Mary and she said it was school, so he could pick whichever of the bazillion girls he knew to ask to the ball. (It was Hermione was used the bazillion word). During the Hufflepuff pool party he'd asked Natalia Shacklebolt, just as friends. She'd smiled and agreed, but hinted that her father was an auror. Harry just laughed at that. She'd laughed with him. Thing was, Nat was one of the two black students in the school. And Harry planned on making her stand out even more.

Harry's dress robe for this was a pair of completely black dress robes, with Christmas green accents at cuffs, buttons, and belt. It was sleek and flashy. He had a red and white flower pinned on the side of his lapel. Before he and Nat went into the Great Hall, he'd magic his hair to be white and red, the same colors of the flowers. Nat's dress would be as striking on her as any would be on a twelve year old. It was long and blowy and perfectly white. The skirt was overlaid with a soft, nearly unnoticeable red print. She had a black and green flower pinned at the throat of her dress, and her black hair was swept back with green ties. The two of them met in one of the Charms classrooms. Aurora met them with a camera and snatched a few pictures of them with their serious attire on. Then Harry dyed his hair and Natalia conjured silver tinsel that Aurora wove into her hair and draped around Harry's arm like a silver snake. Harry, who hadn't expected the tinsel, conjured up some glitter. Aurora dove out of the way, but the two students ended up literally covered in Christmas colored glitter. Aurora snapped a few more pictures during the whole affair, they posed for a few more, and then Aurora left so that she'd arrive in time to chaperone the beginning of the dance.

After a few minutes, Harry offered his arm to Nat and the two of them began the short walk to the Great Hall. They joined a throng of other couples and groups of friends who were arriving, and they received quite a few glances. It had been quite a topic of discussion – who Harry Potter would take to the Ball. Because the excuse to hold the dance was the Intelligence Bowl, the winners of the third division had to open with the first dance. Harry and his team would get the second dance. The sixth year boys and their dates spun around the room, gracefully. People cheered and clapped and were generally in a good mood. When the first dance finished, Harry led Nat out into the dance floor. Eddie and Persephone were dancing together, and Able was escorting Katie. Nora had ended up on the arm of Vale Kensington, so the two of them danced both first and second dances. Harry and Nat received many an ooh and an aah for their striking robes, and the glitter and tinsel. But mostly how well Harry handled having white hair with red accents.

Nat stumbled a bit through the dance, but Harry had learned to lead well enough to disguise that. When their dance ended and she dragged him off to get food. There were various cheese and crackers and some other snack food spread out for the Ball's dinner. "Thanks for covering for me," Nat said, with a grin. "What with four brothers and my dad, I never got very good at dancing."

Harry grinned. "I only learned to dance this year. You've really got four brothers?"

"Yeah," Nat said, around a bite of cheese, "I'm the only girl; the eldest, too. My brothers are great, but I just know how to play better with boys."

"I've been told I'm the other way around," Harry said, with mild chagrin.

Nat laughed and the two of them headed back out to dance. They spent most of evening talking about her brothers or dancing. She got the hang of it by their fourth dance. After that, the two of them traded partners with random people and just danced around the room for a long while before sitting down at one of the few remaining tables. Somehow, Harry had ended up dancing with more girls than he cared to count during that time. And he knew most of them too… Kenneth and Hermione joined them for a little while; Harry was keenly aware that the two of them had barely been separate the entire evening.

"You two look festive," Kenneth said, smirking.

"His fault on the glitter," Nat answered.

"You started it."

"Did not."

"You probably did," Hermione said, cutting them off before they could really get going. "Having a good night, Nat?"

"The best," the younger said, literally glowing. "I mean, I love this dress, and can you get a load of Harry's hair? I could stare at it all day!" She jokingly dove her hand into his hair and started rubbing. Bits of tinsel and sparkly glitter dusted over them. Harry jerked away. Hermione and Kenneth laughed. McGonagall announced the last dance and Kenneth dragged Hermione back out for a slow dance, but Harry and Nat just decided to leave a little early. They snuck out a side door and worked their way down towards the Hufflepuff common room.

They didn't talk much until they got into the hallway right outside the Hufflepuff common room.

"Thanks for the night," Nat said, grinning. "It was great."

Harry pulled a long, thin box from within his robes. "It's your Christmas present; a little early, but I wanted to give it to you know and give you the choice to open it now or later…" He wasn't really good at the whole gift giving thing. This was the first time he'd really given gifts and it made him feel just so giddy and happy and alive.

Her eyes sparkled. "I'll open it later. Happy Christmas Harry."

"Happy Christmas." He left, waving over her shoulder as he went.

After and few seconds, it was just Natalia left in the hallway. No one was there to hear her. She started giggling.


	31. A Way Home

Chapter Thirty-One

A Way Home

Paradise was staying with Aurora and flooing to Ursa-Upon-Heavens, but Harry had gotten permission to take the Hogwarts express with his friends. He was squished into a compartment with Able, Hermione, Sarah, Neville, Eddie, Nora, Persephone and Selene. Sarah was stretched out on the floor. Harry was next to the window and Selene, with Persephone and Eddie. Nora, Able, Hermione and Neville were on the other bench.

Somehow, the four Ravenclaws and Slytherins had become so integrated in their group. Sarah seemed a little uneasy around the four extra fourth years, but she and Persephone were finding several things to talk about. The elder Grant girl liked art and Sarah was veritable encyclopedia on art and art history. Harry watched, calmly, as within an hour Sarah was completely relaxed around the older students. Then Able suggested they play two truths and a lie or some other sort of talking game.

Twas fun. Persephone was _really_ good at confusing everyone, but her twin sister was in the compartment so she only managed to win a few rounds. Harry, in actuality, came out with the most victories. Which made Hermione really chagrined. She was supposed to be his best friend, or at least, his friend for the longest amount of time. Hermione was awful at the game. And it was kind of funny, how frustrated she got when she repeatedly failed to confound her friends. Nora was equally as bad; she and Eddie didn't catch on to Selene and Persephone's silence regarding each other's truth and lies. It was a fun way to pass the time.

A bunch of people stopped by, but there wasn't space for any of them to stay, so all of them moved on. Su joined Sarah on the floor for the last half an hour of the train ride. She didn't fit into the group well, but she connected with Hermione and Harry knew that Su wasn't really liked outside of Hermione. She was respected, very well respected, but she wasn't _liked._ Sort of like Persephone. Harry was loved and revered. Neville was well known in certain circles but disliked in many – most people didn't even know why he was disliked, Sarah and Able were complete unknowns. Eddie, Nora and Selene were barely well known, respected for a few things but not known. Sarah knew – and Hermione suspected – that one day they'd all be known simply as Harry Potter's friends, but she didn't mind that.

And so Harry decided that he'd try and help Su integrate into the outer circles of his close group of friends. He already knew that she and Hermione were spending the holidays together, half of it at Su's place and half of it at Hermione's. So she'd be involved in anything he did with Hermione over vacation. It was… Oh geez, the first term of school this year had completely changed his outlook on things. But it was mostly a good chance, right?

"Harry?" Neville said, "You're zoning. We're almost at the station."

"Right," Harry shrugged. "Sorry." He adjusted his hat again. Part of his wardrobe contained hats of nearly every style, color and size. And as hats couldn't be worn with the Hogwarts uniform, he hardly ever got the chance to wear hats. Today, his hat was a bright red, not-quite-fedora. "Everyone game for Thursday?" He'd see most of them at some point _before_ Thursday, but his huge vacation party was scheduled for Thursday. Aurora hadn't wanted to chaperone, so they'd talked Dan and Emma Granger into coming over to Ursa-Upon-Heavens so that they could experience a little of magical community and chaperone the kids while Aurora went to various Hogwarts related meetings. Harry didn't think fifty was a lot of people… right?

They had long since stopped playing the game, moved through a detailed analysis of the workings of the Intelligence Bowl and started talking about the Ball. When they got on the subject of the Ball, they got on the subject of Harry and Natalia and how well their robes went together. "Well, duh, I own a clothing company." Temperance was passing by the door at that exact moment.

"Hang on, you had those specially made?"

"I paid for them," Harry retorted, petulantly.

"You are basically paying yourself," Hermione interjected.

"I liked the glitter," Temperance said, smirking. She moved off, still smirking.

Hermione frowned at Harry. "Did you pay for Natalia's robes as well?"

Harry nodded.

"Oh."

"What's the problem with that?" Able asked. "They looked great together. I saw Colin get some pictures. Do you want any?"

"Aurora took some too," Harry said, grinning. "And 'mione, don't call Nat Natalia. She doesn't like it."

"Don't call me 'mione!"

"Game, set, match," the three other Gryffindors cooed. The three Ravenclaws and the two Slytherins laughed. The train lurched to a stop at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Harry had sent his trunk with Aurora, so he helped Sarah handle her trunk. Hermione and Selene and Sian and pretty much everyone knew not to leave until he'd met their parents. Well, those who were being picked up would know. Many of the purebloods would just floo home. They joined the throng of students exiting the Hogwarts Express. Persephone and Selene found their parents first. They dragged Harry over for the formal introductions. Poseidon joined them, while Harry was greeting Lord and Lady Grant. They had two pre-Hogwarts kid with them. And Hades. And Athena. Wow. There were a lot of Grants.

Lord Grant was a little aloof, but Poseidon and Lady Grant actually joked around a bit. Harry said his adieus and turned straight into Artemis and Pallas Ingraham. Who just _had_ to introduce him to their parents! Lord and Lady Ingraham were kind, and they seemed to take a genuine interest in what Harry was interested in. But they did keep talking and Harry was getting anxious. He had a lot of parents to meet! Pallas rescued him by pointing out Sian with her parents and saying "Don't you need to go talk to her?"

Harry thanked her, said goodbye to her and Emi and their parents before darting over to speak with Sian and her parents. The Hallabrands shook his hand and thanked him profusely. It was a little annoying, but Harry smiled and told them he was always willing to help. They also seemed rather shocked to see how young and small he was.

He ran into Mr. and Mrs. Spinnet by accident. He'd been hoping to avoid them… Thankfully, Alicia distracted them and Harry managed to dart away with the elder Spinnets knowing who he was. He was kind of surprised to see Temperance and Chastity talking with an older man who was obviously their father. They probably could have apparated… Harry went over and finally met the man behind his wardrobe and dramatic increase in wealth. Julius was jovial and fairly close to epic. But then, Harry had made him a rich man, so he didn't exactly give the guy a reason to complain.

After Julius, Harry greeted the venerable Lady Longbottom, before getting ambushed by Vicky and Vicky's mom. The ambush by Mrs. Frobisher reminded him far too much like Mrs. Weasley's hugs. And Mrs. Weasley's hugs had taught him to not fight the hug! Mrs. Frobisher was sobbing and thanking him over and over by the time she let him go. Harry gave Vicky a hug and told her to have a good Christmas.

Harry had only managed to get away from the Frobishers when Nat grabbed his hand and dragged him over to meet her dad and the boys. And by Merlin's bloody trousers, meeting Kingsley Shacklebolt Sr. was terrifying! The man was tall, black, imposing, had his ear pierced, and seemed looked like he knew how to kill. He shook Harry's hand rather formally and didn't seem like he was trying to be scary. Harry was still a bit scared. Nat introduced him to all four of her brothers: Elias, Carter, Kingsley Jr., and little Lance, who was only five. He talked with the boys for a few minutes, found out all their favorite Quidditch and football teams (halfbloods had the best of both worlds) before he excused himself and finally reached Hermione and her parents.

Hermione was grinning at him. "Popularity, huh. And did you notice how many _gi—_"

"Shut up."

"Heartbreaker," Hermione retorted, sing-song-ish. "Harry, my parents, Dan and Emma Granger. They're still on for Thursday."

"Awesome!" Harry shook Hermione's parents' hands and they chatted about the past term and various inconsequential things. As they walked away, Harry heard Emma mutter something about how much he'd changed since they'd seen him last. Huh. He'd have to ask Hermione about that. By now, the platform had thinned to the point that most everyone had left. He could still see the Towlers, deep in conversation with Penelope Clearwater. None of them seemed to have parents in the vicinity. The girl he thought was Elizabeth Thorn – Slytherin, sixth year – he thought. On the good side, walked by.

Something smashed him in the back of the head.

Harry crumbled.

And Sal started screaming.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Hedwig hadn't been in the owlery during the vacation clean out. When she got back, most everyone was missing. Ah well, she'd just have to fly home with this newest message. She perched for a few minutes, intending just to calm herself and rest up before taking wing again, but Fawkes messed that up.

The phoenix flashed into the middle of the owlery, terrifying the remaining birds out of their minds. _Daughter of the night, I must converse with you._

Hedwig tried to straighten herself, but her feathers were ruffled from pruning and she had to look a frightful mess. _Of… of course, oh Father of Fire._

Fawkes eyed the other owls. There weren't many. _Scat!_

All of them, excepting poor, clueless, adorable little Taygete, fled. Hedwig flicked her minion with a bright golden eye. _D__o as he says_. _I will converge with you at home,_ and the frumpish little owl took to the sky.

_She is loyal to you_, Fawkes said, with a hint of pride in his voice.

_This is my perch,_ Hedwig thought, snappishly. Taygete, Jasper, CiCi… they served her in this dominion. And, while she respected and feared the phoenix's power, she disliked being reminded that the entire sky was not hers to own. _What did you need to tell me?_

Fawkes sagged. His golden feathers drooped. _Hogwarts is crying. Her heart is broken. The__ world has shattered and your human is the one in the best position to heal it. And Hogwarts needs to be healed!_

Hedwig cooed.

The magnificent phoenix bowed his head. _I gift you a feather. __Tell him to grow his circle. Tell him he must complete his campaign, not only within Hogwarts, but within this crying land. Tell him he must complete this__ before Hogwarts cries herself to nothingness!_

Hedwig hooted. _How long, oh Father of Fire?_

_I do not know. Soon._

And that was when the feeling hit. Her human had been hurt and probably… probably… Without waiting for the phoenix's consent, Hedwig took to the sky and winged in the direction her bond told her to go. She'd find Harry. He'd be okay.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry woke in a nursery. An old, disused, somewhat abandoned nursery, but at one point in time, the room had definitely been home to little children. There was a broken but open toy chest lying in one corner. Two cribs had been pushed against a far wall. Dust had coated the floor, but it was scuffled and disturbed by drag marks and at least two pairs of footprints. His hands were bound and, and… his magic wouldn't funnel through his hands. Did they have some sort of magic suppressors? That was a scary thought.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The walls of the nursery were silver and green. That implied that it was a Slytherin by heritage family. But… that meant it was most likely the Flints, Malfoys, Crabbes, Parkinsons, or Higgs. There were other families, but those children would have been at the platform without standing out at all.

"You know he's awake now," said a voice, just outside the nursery.

"Yeah, I know." That was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.

Harry sighed. Did the boy have no sense? And the other voice, it was older, feminine.

"I can't believe you talked me into keeping him in my old nursery," said the female. The door opened and Harry stepped through, followed by Maria Flint.

Malfoy walked up to Harry and slapped in across the face. Harry spat at him. Malfoy spat back. "I was thinking of contacting Black, you know. He was one of Voldemort's favorite. He would want you so, so, _dead_." Draco shrugged. "But I guess I wanted to have my own little fun with you first. We can always pin it on Black later, right Maria?" The older girl snickered.

"You're both idiots," Harry said.

"We got you this far," Maria retorted. "It's been three days and they haven't found you yet."

Three days? That would mean…

Harry morphed his arms smaller. He hadn't tried it before and normally he could only do his hair and facial expressions for a few seconds. But he needed… It worked. The shackles slipped of his wrists and Harry caught them before he managed to fall. Ha.

"We've got your wand," Draco said. "Don't you know that casting with rock is useless?"

"Don't you ever pay attention?" Harry spat back. He dropped the shackles and fired his largest of patroni at the two Slytherins. They stared. Harry jumped to his feet and cast three quick spells that Professor Lupin had taught them: two _expelliarmus_ charms and one charm that would bind Flint and Malfoy's hands together. They just stared at him, astonished. "Real idiots." And Harry took off running. He was always good at running. Thing was, he didn't know the house. Still, it was large and empty. He didn't even see a house-elf. It was still a long while before he found a fireplace with floo powder. "St. Mungo's, Healer Kensington!" He didn't know if that last part would do anything, he just hoped he wouldn't pop out of some random fireplace in a populated area of St. Mungo's.

He didn't. He tumbled out, covered in soot, into a very small office. Vince Kensington shot up from his desk. "Harry, what on earth?"

Harry sent a message through his link with Hedwig, telling her that he was okay. His owl was frantic. "What's the date?"

"The 20th," Kensington replied, easily. "What happened, are you hurt?"

Harry relaxed. "I don't think so… but… could you call an auror?"

"Harry, what happened?"

Harry wasn't entirely sure. "I think I got abducted by a pair of imbeciles."

Kensington called for an auror. Hedwig arrived at the window. Harry scribbled out a note for her to take to Aurora, saying his was fine and that he'd be home as soon as possible. She left. Auror Trainee Tonks, who'd be unofficially assigned as Harry's semi-official auror for all things insignificant, popped through the floo. "You got abducted?" where the first words out of her mouth.

"By Draco Malfoy and Maria Flint," Harry said.

Tonks blinked at him.

"Okay, so I was brained at the platform and then woke up in this nursery in Flint's house and Malfoy and she were there and they were talking and said they'd turn me over to Black," Kensington and Tonks winced, "but that they wanted to have some fun with me first. They hand these handcuffs or something on my hands. I morphed my wrists smaller, disarmed them, and attached their wrists together. I didn't grab my rock, though; they probably still have that."

"Your rock?" Tonks asked.

"Oh, the focus I've been using since my wand broke."

"A rock."

"Yes."

"A _rock._"

"Yes."

"_A rock!_"

"…Haven't we been through this?"

"A ROCK!"

"Tonks!" Harry shouted back at her.

The auror blinked at him. "Right. Sorry."

The floo activated. Kensington and Tonks leaned over the fireplace. Harry curled into one of Kensington's chairs and just watched. He heard a random auror telling Tonks about five frantic Hogwarts students claiming that Harry Potter had been kidnapped by Draco Malfoy and Maria Flint. The auror in the floo didn't think it was possible and was being derisive. Harry started snickering. And Tonks just reamed into the other auror. She started shouting again, which was kind of funny. Harry just snickered as Tonks and Kensington gave the poor older auror a lesson in proper procedure. Tonks even darted through the floo to reassure the Towlers, Penelope and Elizabeth Thorn that Harry was actually okay.

Kensington looked back at Harry. "This is gonna be one of those things that you're laughing about in a million years, yeah?"

"Already am sort of laughing about it," Harry said. "What do you think they're going to do with Flint and Malfoy?"

"How old are they?"

"Third year and fifth year," Harry said. He picked up one of Kensington's books on Mind Arts and read the table of contents. It was beyond his understanding, but it was still something to do.

"Some sort of juvenile reformation, probably." Kensington moved behind his desk. "You studied that book at all?"

Harry nodded. "Katie and I both. We've gained some limited control over the empathy, but not much more in shielding."

"You're still coming in for lessons and check-ups the Wednesday after Christmas?"

Harry nodded.

Tonks popped back through the floo. "You can go home now. You'll probably be needed for a juvenile trial at some point. But that'll probably be after school starts up again."

"Great," Harry grumbled.

"You can head home now," Tonks said. "As long as Ken here releases you."

"You're fine," Kensington said. "You can get home through the floo?"

"Yeah. Bye guys."

"Oh, Harry, congrats on that morph," Tonks said, as he stepped into the floo. Harry grinned at her and disappeared through the fireplace grates.

He stepped out in Ursa-Upon-Heavens to find Paradise and Aurora staring at him from the dining room table. "Hi."

"Why did you end up at St. Mungo's?" Aurora asked, levelly.

"I got abducted."

"What?"

"Oh, Malfoy and Flint abducted me. What time is it, I forgot to ask that."

"About seven," Paradise pointed out. "You hungry?"

He joined them at the table. "Yeah. You know, I don't understand why Malfoy would do it. I mean, I wasn't even properly secured."

"You got abducted."

"I'm fine." Harry said. He snatched an apple from the table and bit into it.

Paradise cocked her head. "Your scar is back." Harry blinked. She rolled her eyes. "Your burn scar."

Harry looked down at his hand. The finger tips on his right hand had reverted to folded, black skin. The burn really was back. But why? It itched, but it hadn't itched until Paradise pointed it out. Huh. It had faded a while ago, just a couple of days after the Snape incident, so why was it back? Maybe… maybe the metamorphing skills had something to do with it? "Odd. Is Hedwig okay?"

"Yeah. She and Tay went for a flight right after Hedwig got in with your letter," Paradise said. "She was a little frazzled, but all right."

"Good."

"I'm going to go get dinner ready," Aurora said, standing. "Harry, _don't,_ don't do that again."

Harry shrugged. "Wasn't my fault."

"Well," Aurora muttered, somewhat awkwardly. "Try? It could be worse next time."

Harry looked at her, cocking his head. "Of course it's going to be worse next time."


	32. Christmas Lilies

Chapter Thirty-Two

Christmas Lilies

They didn't come close to making it through the night. Aurora had cleaned out the attic – somehow, Harry guessed she borrowed a Hogwarts elf to do it – so Harry's stuff had ended up in the sprawling, dimly lit wooden attic. It was a gorgeous space. With a few extra lamps, some lounging chairs and small rugs, it would be a really great hang out place. Harry resolved to pick up some of that furniture from Diagon Alley the following day. But he still felt uneasy, picturing Paradise sleeping alone. He knew she'd been having nightmares. He knew most of Hogwarts had been having nightmares!

Sure enough, not an hour after she first went to bed, Paradise started screaming. Harry was still up reading. He went to go check on her, but Aurora did it instead. Maybe she'd actually be around to help Paradise make it through the night… Harry headed to the attic, leaving the HG Wells book behind. And he couldn't fall asleep. Paradise calmed down a few minutes later, but still, Harry couldn't sleep. He tried reading again; Hermione always suggested it. He had a couple of benefactor journals, but those were hard to focus on, because everyone had awful script. Neville feel asleep reciting facts about plants. Harry tried that with various spells he'd learned, but it didn't help. Sarah had never had problems sleeping; Harry envied her. It just wasn't working! He got up and ran through a few of the stances that the golems had taught him for his pre-sword fighting lessons. That didn't help relax him at all. And he couldn't stay focused long enough for the meditation exercises to work.

His hand itched. He couldn't fathom why Flint and Malfoy had tried to kidnap him. Did they honestly think they'd get away with it? Did they honestly think they could turn him over to Black and no one would find out? Harry sighed. He wanted someone to talk with, but Paradise needed sleep and Aurora probably wouldn't have anything to say. So… long shot. "Sal?"

The elf popped into the attic, almost instantaneously. "Student Harry called? What does Student Harry need?"

Harry propped his hands beneath his chin. "A lesson?"

"Here?" Sal said, looking around the dark attic. "Here?"

"I need something to do!"

Sal coughed. "Student Harry's—"

"Harry."

"—hand is burnt."

Harry looked at his hand. He looked back at the elf. "Yeah. What, what's wrong with it?"

Sal shrugged. "The burn is full of magic. Student Harry can't learn outside of Hogwarts. Student Harry will be detected."

"Really?" Harry groaned. "I thought Dobby had to mask his magical signature to make it seem like mine."

Sal blinked. "Dobby fake Harry's magical signature? Bad Dobby! Bad! Sal has idea." The little elf popped away.

Harry flopped back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. When Able had trouble sleeping, he counted sheep. That didn't work. Cormac said that he never had trouble sleeping. He just snored rather loudly once he fell asleep. Able had had to teach Neville and Harry a silencing charm almost immediately after they moved into the fourth year dorm. Harry again sat up and pulled several pieces of parchment out of his back. He'd just owl ordered a book from one of the novelty book stores that didn't actually have a shop in Diagon Alley: _Capturing the Magical and Mystical in 3-Dimensions: Map-Making for Dummies_. The book was written by Jill Venys and Linus Pamuer. He'd only had time to read a few chapters, but he'd also read _Interdisciplinary_, by the same authors. The latter book focused on tying everything one learned and using it as one cohesive unit. But it was told more like a story than an advice book. He'd found at least three other books written by the same authors, but he hadn't managed to read them yet.

And there was the Annaline Addison book – one which spent a single chapter on a significant person in modern history and analyzed their work. He even had a chapter. Hermione, of course, raved about the book and how good it was. She loved Addison as a reporter, as a writer. Hermione was likely Addison's biggest fan. And there was Muriel Prewett. She had written some of the best How-To-Do-This-or-That books that Harry had read. The wizarding world had a lot of authors. Maybe because everyone lived so long, more people found time to write books? Harry pushed his distractions aside and started sketching out the first floor of Hogwarts. He'd almost certainly enlist Sarah to do the final sketch that he turned into the final copy on the map – all seven-ish pieces of parchment that would be necessary for the map to actually function properly. Still, he wanted something to practice the charms on…

Harry found his memory of the first floor was pretty good. He still didn't know how the map would end up capturing the moveable staircases. And he knew he couldn't do this whole project by himself. He'd get Sarah to do the artwork. He could try and rope Hermione into researching various spells or ways to improve upon the Venys and Pamuer method. There were a whole lot of reference materials that those two authors used that Harry really didn't know how to handle. But Hermione, and maybe Su, would be really valuable in researching whatever charms would be needed. And Neville and Able would be in on the project, for sure. But for a complete map, they would need someone in each house. Someone who could move around and take measurements, mostly unheard of. Which means he had to bring a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff girl into things. And a Ravenclaw, but he'd probably use Su. There was always Selene for Slytherin. And maybe he'd ask Sally-Anne. She was the least unassuming. She'd be the most likely to not tell anyone. But she was still a pack member. Pallas Ingraham? She barely ever spoke, and while Artemis would probably end up knowing about… He just wanted to keep this as quiet as he could. So, if he could talk Sal into helping, the people who would need to know about it could be limited to himself, Hermione, Sarah, Neville, Able, Su, Pallas, and Selene. That was eight. Add Artemis and Persephone and the Carmichaels, and that was twelve. It was a good enough number for this project…

He wanted this map to be, in the end, spectacular. He wanted a master map. And then maybe, if all twelve worked together, there endless possibilities.

Sal and Dobby popped into the attic. Harry startled and jerked, smudging his sketch of the first floor. "What are you doing here?"

"Sal had an idea!" "Sal mean!" Sal and Dobby said in unison. "Sally bullied Dobby to come here!" "Tell him!"

Dobby folded his spindly arms over his spindly chest and didn't say anything. Harry blinked. Since when was Dobby quiet?

"Tell him!"

"Dobby has wronged great and powerful Master Harry, and the great, good, wonderful Master Harry only is kind. Dobby owes Master Harry Potter-Moorland-Aragon-Fallus—" he ran through each and every of the thirty-some names that Harry had picked up. All of them. Harry himself didn't even know all of those names! "—King. Dobby owes fantastic, kind Master Harry a house-elf debt."

"And—" Sal prompted.

Dobby snarled. "So, so, Dobby most bond with Lord Potter-Moorland-Aragon—" Thirty-four names. "…King. Or be a bad elf. But Dobby don't want. Dobby wants to be free. Sal has offered to take Dobby's debt. Debt call is stronger than bond to Hogwarts." Dobby pouted.

Harry blinked. "So-?"

Sal bounced on his heels. "Sal takes Dobby's oath and can teach Student Harry elf-magic out of Hogwarts. And… and… other things! Sal can be Student Harry's actual elf!"

Harry blinked. "Really? You're okay with that? You want that?" Both Sal and Dobby nodded, Sal more enthusiastically. "Okay. Let's do it." And before he could blink again, Sal and Dobby were reciting something and Sal and Harry were glowing and then the glowing disappeared and Dobby popped away. It was… odd. "Sal?"

"Master Harry, sir!" The elf was grinning and looked completely and utterly exuberant.

"Sal! Call me Harry."

"Yes Harry," Sal said, still grinning. "Did you know you have other elves? Hereditary elves?"

Harry blinked.

"Me call them," Sal said.

In five seconds, two elves popped into the attic. "YOUNG MASTER POTTER SIR!" One of the elves flung itself at him, wrapping small, spindly arms around Harry's waist. "We is missing you, sir."

"Hi."

The elf pulled away, blushing. "I apologize, Master Potter, sir. Me is only excited."

The other elf had greeted Sal and they were shaking hands and chattering around in a really quick, harsh language. Harry caught one or two words; he'd looked into Elvish to a degree. "Well, please just call me Harry. And you are?"

"Me is Jessie. And this is Carter. Me is the official Potter elf. Well, the daughter of Gem and Ollie, who were the real Potter elves. Carter is my mate. He's not bonded to you, ma-, eh, Harry. Please don't send him away."

"I won't."

Carter and Sal were still talking.

"Me also has child. Me is a bad elf," Jessie said, looking up at Harry.

There was a knock at the trap door that opened into the attic. It was almost certainly Aurora. Harry jumped off the bed and opened the door, looking down at the questioning glance of his guardian. "What's going on, Harry?"

Harry moved back to let her stick her head into the room. Aurora poked her head in and stared at the elves. "Sal? And, um, I don't recognize—"

"This is Jessie," Harry said. The little female waved, her bright blue eyes bouncing with the rest of her. "And this is Carter. They're the Potter elves. And Sal's my elf now too. Jessie, Carter, this is my guardian, Professor Sinistra." The two elves bowed.

Aurora blinked.

"And me child," Jessie said, hanging her head. "If ma—Harry wishes."

Aurora blinked again. "Harry, I've got a headache. Let me know what you end up doing." She retreated from the attic, pulling the door closed behind her. That just left Harry with the elves. And he didn't know what to do.

"Jessie," Harry said, sitting down cross-legged on the floor. It put him at just about the height of the households. "Where's your kid?"

Her ears dropped. "Back home. At the Godric's Hollow house. You want me to call her?"

"Yes please."

Carter and Sal had stopped talking. "Harry," Sal said, "you is not bonded to Carter. Do you want him?"

"Can it hurt?"

All three elves shook their heads. "Then sure," Harry said. And this time, Harry and Carter glowed. He didn't feel any different. He could feel the elf magic. Sal had taught him to at least be sensitive to the elf magic. He knew what it was. He could manipulate the magic to a degree, but he wasn't very good. Harry felt a brief flow of magic before a mini-house elf – no larger than his head – POPPED into the room. It was a much louder pop than the others. And the little elf was adorable. She had sparkly dark blue eyes and wasn't slumped or anything. Just… adorable. "Hi."

The little elf looked at Jessie and Carter and then back at Harry. She cocked her head. "Mwaster?"

"My name's Harry. What's yours?"

"Erm— You need to name her," Sal said. "We elves need masters to name us."

"Really? Okay. Well, Jessie, Carter, what do you want her name to be?"

The four elves stared at him. Jessie shrugged. "We has not considered it, Harry."

Hedwig pushed through a skylight and alighted on her perch. She peered down at the little elves and hooted. "Guys, this is Hedwig. Hedwig, this is Sal, Jessie, Carter, and, oh, what do you want your name to be?"

The little elf shrugged.

Harry bit his lip. "What about Lily? I could name you after my mum. We could call you Lils."

The little elf nodded. "Lils like."

"Okay. Good. So, um." Harry stared at the four elves. He honestly had no idea what to do next. "Now what?"

"We has been caring for the Godric's Hollow house," Carter said. "Would you like us to continue?"

Harry nodded. "I'd like to visit at some point this vacation. Is that okay?" Carter and Jessie nodded.

"Harry," Jessie said, swallowing. "Lils needs training. She can train with Sal, no?"

"Sounds good," Harry said, "but Sal, what are you going to be doing?"

"Training you," Sal said. "I is still going to train you. And I can care for this house. And when you is back at Hogwarts, I shall still work for you, doing what you need. Lils can help." The little elf nodded, eagerly.

"All right. Good. Carter, Jessie, check in with me every other day, okay?" The two elves nodded. "Sal, Lils, what space to do you need to sleep, eat?"

"We is good with a corner," Sal said. "Our magic can set it up."

"Take that corner then," Harry said, pointing to one of the attic corners. "You're good?"

"Yes." All four elves said.

"Okay. Well. Nice meeting you all," Harry said, shrugging. It was a really awkward, staring at those four elves and knowing that they… they… oh geez. He had house elves! Hermione was not going to like this. Neville would probably find it hysterical. "So, um. Yeah. You guys can go now.

The elves went. Carter and Jessie popped away, almost silently. Sal and Lils moved towards the directed corner. Harry went back to bed. And he managed to fall asleep. Huh.

o.o.o.o.o.o

"Hey Mary."

"Hey Harry."

"Hi Natalie."

"Hi Harry!"

"The Alley's packed today."

"It normally is."

"Oh. So what do you normally do during vacations?"

"Wander, mostly. There's not much to do. It's really awkward at home right now."

"Oh?"

"Mum and Dad are still hounding Emma about William."

"So I'm walking into a hornet's nest?"

"Pretty much. It's not like Dad'll refuse you.

"What if he does?"

"Emma elopes, gets disowned, and Mary becomes the MacDonald heir."

"Natalie, please be quiet about this."

"I hate being quiet."

Harry snickered. He'd been wandering around Diagon Alley with Mary and Natalie for a while now. It was interesting. The three of them had eaten lunch in one of the middle priced restaurants in the Alley. Mary had griped and groaned at the time they'd spent in the Quidditch shops. They'd run into many students from Hogwarts, almost all of them from the richer, more powerful families. It was rather odd. Paradise and Aurora had stayed home so that Lily and Vicky could come over for a few days. He needed to find a Christmas present for Paradise… And Aurora had told him that her brother, sister-in-law, Aria and two other Sinistra children would be spending Christmas with them.

So he needed something more significant for Aria and then her two younger siblings. Aurora had said their names were Anthem and Symphony. And that Anthem went primarily by Ant. So. Two girls and a boy. He asked the two MacDonald girls to help him shop, but they didn't know the Sinistra family so they didn't have any ideas. Natalie talked the two older kids into going into a toy store. Ant was about nine. Symphony was seven. Natalie insisted that they get Anthem a set of Quidditch figurines. Neither Harry nor Mary saw anything better so they went with that. For Symphony, Harry bought a simple craft project that Sarah had mentioned enjoying before she really started drawing. But Paradise and Aria were difficult to find something for. There was no way he'd get either girl a book. They weren't particularly studious.

It took two hours before Mary took pity on him and went into a beauty salon with his money and came out with gifts for the two girls. It wasn't what Harry would have liked, but they didn't have anything better. They wandered a bit more, talked to a few people that they knew from Hogwarts. Tonks was on patrol with a few older aurors, so Harry waved, but they didn't stop to talk. In passing, Natalie said she wanted to be an auror. Mary stared at her, obviously horrified. It was kind of funny, watching the sisters banter. At around three, Natalie got engaged in a conversation with a boy who'd be attending Hogwarts the following year. Harry and Mary stayed near her, but moved away a bit. Demelza and Dakota Robbins passed by, but Mary didn't really say hi.

"You okay?" Harry asked, as Mary tensed up.

"No," Mary replied. "There's been talk about Queenie switching dorm rooms with Dakota. It sucks."

"What?"

"You know how the older years aren't allowed to have more than five in a dorm? When there's six or seven in a year, they get split up. And in our second year, all six of us made a conscious decision that we were going to split up our pairings, so that no group was left out. So it was me and Queenie and Demelza in one room with Katie, Eliza and Dakota in the other. But Eliza and Queenie have been spending so much time together, and Katie and Queenie have nearly fallen apart. It's just, all wrong!" Mary snarled. She folded her arms around herself.

"So the groups are changing?"

"Yeah," Mary griped. "And 'cause Katie's spent so much time with Alicia and Angelina – even more than she has in the past – it's not like I've got a best friend anymore. That stupid play."

"Have you told the others about this?"

"No! What, you want me to mess up Eliza and Queenie's new, super close friendship?"

"Of course not, but I think that—"

"Tell them," Harry said. "Eliza and Queenie are good people. They'll understand what you're thinking."

Natalie ran up. "Mare, mum wanted us back by dinner. We should head back to a floo soon."

"Right," Mary said, grumpily. "You coming Harry?"

They walked back to a coffee shop that had a public floo. The two MacDonalds – who'd had been told, by Harry, about the kidnapping – insisted he go first, so he flooed straight back to Ursa-Upon-Heavens. The sight that met his eyes was honestly rather scary. Paradise, Lily and Vicky were petting the two owls, and Lils. And the little elf looked very uncomfortable. Hedwig, though, was loving the attention. Sal hovered at the edge of the group, as if trying to find a way to extract Lils without angering people. Which was sort of funny. "Hi guys," Harry said, plopping down between Paradise and Vicky and moving so that Lils could easily escape to hide behind him. "What'cha doing?"

"I was telling them about Neville's dollhouse," Paradise said.

"Hedwig's beautiful," Lily said, stroking the snowy.

Harry grinned at her. It was the first day of Christmas vacation. And it was good.


	33. Proposals?

**A/N: In the past couple of days, I really have considered just deleting this story. It's horrible, and the prose-information dump style of the later chapters is just pathetic writing. But, hey. There's other HP stories I'd like to write, and I'd rather relegate this one into the done-and-forgotten-pile. So. All edited. Completed. I hope you haven't suffered too much.**

Chapter Thirty-Three

Proposals?

Late Tuesday morning, Aurora side-along apparated him to the Spinnet's Manchester home. Harry had sort of freaked out about today. He knew that both Sarah and Alicia had reassured him that their parents were fine with him, that it wouldn't be a bit deal. But it was! He was spending the day with them. And then Mrs. Spinnet was driving them to Sheffield to meet up with Katie, Angelina, the twins, and whatever Woods showed up. Harry knew that Oliver and Zach would be there, but wasn't sure about Sally or Diana. But he had to make it through the morning to get to that.

Aurora knocked. Alicia let them in; she tossed Harry an encouraging smile as she let them pass. The house wasn't fancy or anything and it certainly showed the mark of parents sending two kids to a premier school. Mrs. Spinnet – Helen – accosted them a few steps into the house, greeting Harry with enthusiasm that he didn't really expect. Or want. But whatever. Sarah thumped down a nearby set of stairs and hugged Harry, before grabbing his hand and giving him the quick tour of the three bedroom home. And it was a home. There were pictures of Alicia and Sarah and their parents on the walls. There were a few pictures of what looked like cousins. The whole environment just looked happy and content. Some of Sarah's artwork was hanging in one of the upstairs hallway. She just rolled her eyes when Harry jokingly stopped to stare at it. The two students rejoined Alicia and their guardians in the kitchen. Helen Spinnet was muggle, and while she knew a lot about Hogwarts from her husband's and children's point of view, she hadn't heard of it from a professor's point of view. And so they discussed Hogwarts.

After a few moments of listening to the adults talk, Alicia and Sarah took Harry for a walk around their neighborhood. He met a few of their muggle friends, but only really hit it off with Alicia's friend Kyle, who was a bigger fan of football than Dean. Kyle and Harry talked about football – Harry said he was a fan of West Ham, if only because he knew too much about that team. Alicia was an avid participant in the conversation, but Sarah pulled out a sketchbook and doodled. When the cold rain started, the three students returned to the Spinnet house. Aurora had left and Mr. Spinnet had returned for lunch. Which meant they had to have a serious conversation. The conversation Harry had been dreaded for years.

"So, Harry," said Richard Spinnet. Harry had learned over the main course of dinner that the magical parent was an auror, but when a light desert came out, the conversation shifted. "I've heard quite a lot of news that you market your own line of clothing."

Harry blushed bright red. "It sells."

Rich wasn't a jovial guy. He wasn't laughing a lot, nor did he seem particularly keen in truly getting to know who Harry Potter was. If anything, Harry would have said that Sarah's dad felt very, very threatened. "Why clothing?"

This was something Harry was actually comfortable talking about. "Opportunity, mostly. I inherited a clothing company, one recently renamed Shaped Clay Co., and the manager there, Julius Regan, was very approachable about pursuing marketing with my name. Most of the money made from the initial clothing lines was turned around and went into making the company larger and changing it around a bit, so we could also market plushies, pillows, linens, all that sort of fabric supplies. It's been really successful."

Rich nodded. The Spinnet girls were rather quiet, just drinking water and watching Harry squirm. "And is that the only company you're actively involved with?"

"Actively?" Harry frowned. "Julius does almost all of the work, just on some of my suggestions. I mean, I've talked some with managers of Comet, but I'm still a student and am rather content to let them do their work. Although as soon as SCC gets into marketing sportswear, I'm thinking that Comet will be one of their first customers. At the moment, the magical construction company I inherited has a few problems – I'm losing some money there. But I'm working on cleaning it up and actually making it a company worth employing. Personally, I'm thinking it might be better to go in a landscaping direction than true construction. Other than that, I'm sort of trying to get an inactive farm up and running again, but that's hard to do from school, especially because I don't have the right contacts yet. There's a few others companies" cough, understatement, cough "that I have controlling interest in, but I haven't paid much attention to them." He didn't mention the diamond mines. He wouldn't mention the diamond mines unless someone else's life was in danger.

Rich was still nodding. "Do you have investments in anything you don't own?" Somehow, he made it sound somewhat condescending.

"Sure," Harry said, "some even in rival companies to the ones that I completely own, and a fair bit in the muggle world."

"Harry's loaded," Sarah grumbled, under her breath. "We get that, Dad."

He didn't seem to hear her. "So tell me, Mr. Potter, why did you offer to ward my daughters?"

Harry took a deep breath. It seemed like a really, really, really long time ago that he'd offered to do that. But this impending conversation had scared him, worried him… he'd be glad to get it over with. "Mr. Spinnet, I do not profess to know your personal history, however, amongst the list of titles and inheritances I received at the beginning of the school year was the remnants of the pureblooded Spinnet family."

Rich scowled. Helen stared at the table, her knuckles turning white against her cup of tea.

"I didn't ask for that; I wanted to purely gift the title and the monies and the mansion to Alicia and Sarah, but the law doesn't allow for that. Still, I can assure you that any money in the Spinnet vault has been left untouched and, while I do not know the condition of the mansion, the Spinnet mansion near London will always be available for you, should you wish."

Rich was still scowling. "And have you been this generous with the cast-outs of the other families who gifted you inheritances?"

"Mr. Spinnet," Harry said, rather icily, "the other families are dead. I've looked into every family, every relative close enough to default on the inheritance and I can assure you that your family is a special case. I can also assure you that the only reason that I actively pursue the accumulation of wealth is so that I can continue to help people. I shall never want for anything in this life, and I'd like to see that my closest friends – my best friends – receive the same."

"It's true," Alicia said, "he's pretty much paid for David's brother to get cancer treatment. And he didn't even know the Summerbys."

Helen looked up. "I thought wizards were immune—"

"To most but not all," Richard said.

"And David's brother is a squib," Alicia said. "David practically swore serfdom to Harry after the kid started improving."

Harry fidgeted, uncomfortably.

"He paid nearly entirely for the Halloween dance."

"And the Yuletide ball." Alicia and Sarah started skipping over each other, trying to recall all the generous things Harry had done in the past few months.

"And that field trip for the muggle studies students, he's not even one of them!"

"And that grant to the library for more books on ancient languages."

"And that donation to the children's wing at St. Mungos."

"Paradise."

Helen coughed. "Girls, please be polite."

Harry was still bright red.

"He's seriously Prince Charming," Alicia said, knocking her elbow against Harry's shoulder. "I'm pretty sure every girl in first through fourth year has had some kind of crush on him. Even some of the others."

Harry put his head on the table and mumbled incoherently into the rough wood. Helen and Sarah were laughing, but Rich didn't join in. He said he needed to leave for work and then left without another word. Much to Harry's embarrassment, as soon as he was gone, Alicia and Sarah started to explain to his mother everything about him. Which was just _awful._

"He's the most kindhearted, generous, popular heartbreaker in the whole school."

"He went to Yuletide with Nat Shacklebolt, from my year. She's black, you know, and she wore this glittery flowing white dress and he wore black. And they had Christmas colors and tinsel and glitter and it was _great._"

"Almost all of his friends are girls—"

"Not true," Harry grumbled.

"—which might pose some problems, but we'll keep you in line, eh Potter?"

He rolled his eyes at Alicia. "Yes. You and Angelina are sufficiently scary to keep me sane."

"Good."

Helen just looked on with amusement.

Said manner of teasing and banter continued all through the early afternoon and the car ride to Sheffield.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry slipped away from Alicia and Sarah as soon as they met up with Katie. He was meeting with the manager and a couple of the coaches and players a few hours before the match. Sheffield really wasn't having a great year, but they were playing the Cannons, so fans were optimistic. It was an annoying hour or so, as the adults treated him like just another kid who didn't know what was going on. All except the team's seeker, who could see that special secret knowledge that good seekers all shared, and the chaser trainer he'd chosen to teach the Gryffindor girls. The trainer – one Patrick Irons was a burly ex-Gryffindor who'd played his last year during the first year of the reign of Charlie Weasley. He'd washed out after a back injury, practically ruining English's chances in a World Cup some years ago.

And he was fun to talk too. As the rest of the team headed out to the field, Harry invited Irons to join him and his friends. Irons accepted and the two of them joined Harry's friends in the Sheffield stadium's top box. The twins hadn't arrived yet. Irons greeted all of the kids, and even Sarah managed to have a reasonable conversation with him when he joked about her not being a Quidditch fan. Still, she laughed it off, blaming her obsessed sister and her obsessed best friend. She and Harry then dived into a poking contest that Zach and Diana Wood eagerly participated in. Sally Wood hadn't decided to show. Oliver and Irons talked for a long while, mostly about tactics for teaching and other captain-y stuff before Oliver asked about professional try-outs.

Harry pulled away from the poking match to join that conversation. Oliver was, by every single ordinary definitely, very good. But he'd only reached captaincy because he was the only young player on a very old team… his first year of captaincy, he started out with the twins – who'd started in their second year – as the only returning players. Alicia and Angelina had been the reserves the year before, but never played a game. Katie and Harry had been completely new. As the conversation dove into that, Irons seemed impressed – not with Oliver's abilities as a keeper, but rather a coach. "Go professional," the man suggested, "sit on a couple of benches, if you must. Get injured. Coach. Or be a talent scout – you have a gift for finding the talent."

Oliver seemed overall a bit dazed from that conversation.

"Oh, and you're welcome to sit in on my lessons with your three chasers."

Oliver blinked. Then turned to Harry. "Harry…?"

The twins arrived, panting, just a few minutes before the game was scheduled to start. "Sorry, Harry—"

"Couldn't get away—"

"Didn't tell mum about the match, she'd have had kittens!"

"Bill had to help us get away from her!"

Harry took the twins quick commentary in stride. He knew they hadn't been planning on telling their mum, or Ron. He'd actually pulled Ginny aside and told her if she wanted to come, the twins would make it happen, but she turned him down. The twins had then gone and made her promise not to tell anyone. Or so they told Harry. Anyway, Harry had no plans to ever spend extended amounts of time in Ron's house again, so he didn't feel particularly bad about lying to Mrs. Weasley. The twins fell into chatting with Oliver, and Irons moved over to talk with the three chasers, who were at the edge of the nearly empty top box, watching a few trick flyers entertain the gathering crowd.

It was a large group, mostly because the Sheffield-Cannon game was one of the few to happen over Christmas vacation and quite a lot of families had shown up. Irons told the girls to pay close attention to the chasers and that he'd quiz them later. Angelina and Alicia looked, rather grimly, at Harry before accepting their new instructor's orders. Katie just accepted it. And so the game began.

It was great fun. Sarah and Diana stood in the very back, on the very top of the stadium. Diana had freaked out at first, but once Sarah held her hand for a few minutes, she loosened up and the two of them started cheering with the best of them – for Sheffield, 'cause that was Harry's team. The twins cheered for Sheffield to spite Ron. Zach and Oliver cheered for the Cannons. The girls were fixated on the chasers and not really paying any attention to either team. The Cannons pulled out on top, early, as Sheffield's keeper struggled with some of the more aggressive shots, but again and again and again, Sheffield's seeker feinted, blocked, or dove, keeping his opponent away from the snitch.

A few minutes into the game, Irons disappeared from the top box. He reappeared a few minutes later, with a secretive smirk on his face. It was a fun group to watch Quidditch with. At the end of the game, the Cannons came out on top with a 530-500 victory. Sheffield had gotten the snitch. Harry was disappointed, but not overly dismayed. After the match, the Woods left fairly quickly, as did the twins, saying that they needed to get back before their mum went overly mental.

Irons told the girls to go down to the Quidditch pitch. As the stadium emptied, Harry and Sarah moved to one of the bleachers a lot lower down and closer to the locker room exits. It took them several minutes of transit, but when they arrived, it was easy to see that Angelina, Alicia and Katie were racing around with another set of chasers. It wasn't Sheffield's starters, but Harry was sure it was the first reserves. It was getting dark.

"They're getting slaughtered," said Sarah, with all her phenomenal Quidditch knowledge.

"They're too small," Harry said. "They've always been small, but never this small."

"I'm pretty sure that one guy is twice as tall as Katie and three times as heavy."

"Irons is shouting at them, loudly."

"Are they really serious about going pro?" Sarah asked. "I mean, Alicia's talked about it some, but from what I've seen, this guy is committed."

"The girls are committed too," Harry pointed out. "They're the best Quidditch trio Hogwarts has seen in a long while."

Sarah blinked at him, rather owlishly. "You know James Botts is a second reserve for the English national team?" Most students only played on the English team, if they made it at all. It was a too much of a hassle otherwise. But that's not what the girls wanted, two years in the future.

Harry didn't know. "_You_ know that?"

"Alicia's my _sister_," Sarah pointed out. "And as for my roommates…Ginny's Quidditch obsessed, and Clara and Clementine know everything and anything about someone potentially rich and famous. Of course I know."

"Huh. I did say trio, though. And Smith and Xen just can't keep up with him. Chaser's are only so good on their own."

"Botts is the only reason Hufflepuff is any good on that front," Sarah said, persistently. She crossed her arms. "You know how much longer they're going to be?"

"No clue."

Fortunately, while wizarding sporting guilds had managed to adapt _lumos_ and turn it into a magical version of muggle sporting lights, Irons called off the practice when it became too dark to see. A defeated and rather demoralized group of girls joined Harry and Sarah by the team's private floo. Angelina, oddly enough, was hyped up on energy and invigorated to learn and improve. The longer she talked about how great it was to play real professionals, the closer Alicia got to decking her.

Harry got the two irate girls into the floo before that happened. The Spinnets had in an incoming floo, but not an outgoing one, so the Spinnets and Katie flooed home. Angelina forced Harry to go before him, having been alerted by Kenneth Towler, through owl, about the nature of Harry's pseudo-kidnapping. Harry just rolled his eyes at her and wished everyone would stop babying him.

o.o.o.o.o.o

"You're doing what again?" Aurora asked at lunch, Sal's expertly made sandwich paused halfway between her mouth and plate. Her expression was beyond comical.

Of course, that was entirely understandable, because Harry had sat down to lunch and said only "I'm going to propose tonight." Once his guardian and sister had stopped staring at him, Harry shrugged. "I'm sponsoring William, 'cause Emma's a nomah. So it's more like I'm asking permission for him to propose."

Aurora and Paradise were still staring at him.

"Seriously," Harry whined, halfway through his sandwich. "It's not that difficult to understand."

"It's nobility stuff, Har." Paradise said, with a shiver. "We aren't supposed to understand that."

"You should learn, missy," Aurora said.

"But Mum!" Paradise complained.

Harry kept eating, pretending he hadn't noticed. But he noticed. Aurora noticed. And Harry was pretty sure Paradise had no idea what she'd just said. Aurora was instantly focused more in on her sandwich, glaringly uncomfortable. "We'll work on manners later, young lady," Aurora said, a bit choked up. The space between Paradise's eyebrows creased, but she didn't say anything.

Harry scarfed down his sandwich, snapped his plate to the kitchen and headed for the attic. Aurora had not approved of him using magic in the house. She and Sal got in an argument over the whole thing, before Aurora relented and let him use elf-magic and elf-magic only. But as Sal had put up wards that specifically blocked anyone from sensing Harry's magic, he continued to practice his wandless casting in the attic, where Aurora wouldn't see.

And the elf magic had helped – in just a few days – way more than he thought it would have. Maybe it was just how frequently he'd been around elves… which didn't necessarily make sense, because he'd spent a lot of time with Katie… Although he was pretty confident he could get plants to talk to him now, tell him what they needed. Not in a literal sense, of course, but in the way that Neville and the other three sensed it.

Harry and Lils practiced by playing _pop_ tag for the next hour; Sal supervising with a smirk. When they finished, Harry took a quick shower, grabbed the clothes that Mary had ordered him to wear, and flooed to the Grants' house. Officially, he'd be showing up as a guest of Poseidon, so he wouldn't see either Selene or Persephone; however, Poseidon had arranged for a two-way mirror to be set up so that the two girls could critique Harry's appearance and give last minute advice. The Grant twins didn't have any particular say in the matter until Harry told Persephone that she'd gain a favor from the future Lady MacDonald if the whole thing worked out.

The floo spat Harry out into a colossal, lavish greeting room. William welcomed him, and Harry and Poseidon shook hands. They stood there, on the fireplace stoop, before Poseidon broke the ice. "I cracked open the wine cellar, to celebrate, you know, but then Potter here is underage."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I really do need to see about getting emancipated."

"Good luck with that," Poseidon shrugged. "The mirror's this way. C'mon, the girls want to send you off properly."

William fidgeted. But then both the other boys had expected him to be scared out of his mind. He was holding up remarkably well for the possibly disastrous situation that he and Harry were walking into. After long, long hours of debate between the MacDonalds, the Grants, William and Harry, it had been decided that Poseidon would only send along a letter of recommendation and not accompany the committee. There wasn't a lot of animosity between the MacDonalds and Grants, but it was enough that they were slightly worried how Lord MacDonald would act to Poseidon actually coming along. Frankly, it was more politics and psychology than Harry could follow, but he did try.

Well, until the planning session that only William and Poseidon had showed up to. They had taken it upon themselves to give him what Able had referred to as "the Talk." Harry hadn't previously understood why Able seemed to think it was worthy of a capital t, but with the two seventh years trying to figure out how to be good mentor-guys, it was really awkward. Funny, but really awkward. He was only further mortified to learn that William had approached Aurora and _asked_ her permission.

But that was completely tangential.

The Grant girls greeted both William and Harry, before Selene started lecturing William on his posture. The girls were curt, quiet, and demanding. And, from what Harry could tell, they only made William more nervous. Harry ushered William away from their last minute advice as soon as he could. Poseidon wished them good luck, but stayed by the mirror to deactivate it. Before William stepped into the fireplace, he and Harry shared a high five. He zoomed away. Harry followed in quick time.

McGonagall had been most helpful in letting them use her floo to practice. Harry could manage the trip without tumbling out on his head. They flew from one spacious, lavish hall to another. It was honestly difficult to tell them apart.

Lady Catherine MacDonald greeted them. She was an older woman, comfortable on the old side of middle age. There was nothing about her that was innately unfriendly, but both Harry and William knew that she would be of no support in the next few minutes. "Greetings, young Lord Potter. I thank you for arriving in a punctual manner."

Harry bowed to her. "Lady MacDonald, I do try and make my appointments. May I present Mr. William Caric?"

"Charmed," Lady MacDonald said, her tone saying just the opposite of her word. William bowed. "If you'll follow me," she turned and guided the two boys out of the huge entry room and into a still large, but more respectable office room. The Lord Mercury MacDonald sat behind an ornate desk, working at some form of papers with a huge eagle feather quill. Harry was pretty sure they'd set up this whole scene to be designed impressive. And, yeah, he'd be the first to admit that he was impressed. "M'lord, presenting Lord Potter and his companion, Mr. Caric."

MacDonald gestured for both boys to sit, and Lady MacDonald withdrew. Both boys did as they were instructed. After much battling with the others, Harry and William had determined that it would be best to try and put MacDonald in control as much as possible. Neither of them had the stature or the guts to confront him face to face. "I have received the customary missives, as you of course, know. I ask now, why will you continue in wasting my time with this farce of yours?" Both students stayed silent. "You act as if you are properly conducting the courtship process. Nothing about your actions is proper! You are conniving children who don't understand the man's game."

Harry grimaced inwardly. "Be that as it may, Lord MacDonald, we want to thank you for giving us this time."

"I know your intentions," MacDonald said. "Make your case."

For the next hour, Harry and William laid down the reasons why, in the future, William would be able to support Emma should the two be wed. They'd practiced this debate over and over, kept it rather chauvinistic (Emma's, Selene's, Persephone's and even Mary's insistence, although the latter insisted grudgingly), and executed each of their points perfectly in from of the venerable lord. Still, as William finished the closing sentence in his debate and sat back down, Lord Mercury MacDonald said, simply, "No."

Harry's heart sank. This would not mean good things for everyday life in Gryffindor.


	34. The Nightmare After Christmas

Chapter Thirty-Four

The Nightmare After Christmas

Harry spent nearly all of Thursday in his attic. He and William had returned to the Grant home after failing. He'd left a fuming William in Poseidon's hands before flooing home and firecalling Mary on her own fireplace. The middle MacDonald girl had not been happy and transferred quite a bit of that unhappiness onto Harry. As such, he pulled inside himself and spent Thursday doing homework. And he had a lot of homework. He'd never really noticed how much homework he had, but it took him a good six hours to complete. Was Christmas break homework supposed to be that lengthy?

Paradise stuck around in the attic for a few hours, but when Harry just retreated into his languages books, she left. Lils was working with Sal, so while Harry could practice some of his magic, he didn't have a supervisor to help with the control of the elf-magic. And controlling the elf-magic was making it so much easier to control the uncontrollable. Sal even estimated that in another two months, Harry might not need a rock wand at all.

It was discouraging. He wanted magic to _work!_ He'd always been strong on the practical side of things. Sure, he'd gotten better at the theory, but without the practical aspect of magic, he was still just… bad. And he needed to be excellent. He needed to be able to stand up to people like Black and even, even… people like Voldemort. The bad guys that always managed to mess up his life. He'd seen some reincarnation of Voldemort both of his previous years. Where was he this year? Was he with Black? That would be typical. Just… typical.

Harry shook his head and went back to working on the map. He wouldn't have a real opportunity to approach those he was considering until back at school. There'd be too many people at his party, really. He'd tried to keep it just to people that he knew, but Mary insisted that he'd have to invite some of the homeschooled children of the noble elite and students who studied abroad, just because his party was turning into the social event of the season for children aged fifteen to eleven. Nearly all nomahs within that age range would be attending. It unnerved Harry. There were more nomahs outside Hogwarts than within. Harry pushed thoughts of the party and nobility from his mind. The map wasn't progressing. He needed to be back at school for that.

A bored and frustrated Harry threw the map papers back into his trunk and pulled out his harmonica. He hadn't really had time to practice, but he'd been awful at playing the lute. The harmonica was easier. After a few moments, Harry got bored and tossed the instrument back in his trunk. He hadn't unpacked. He'd never fully unpacked since attending Hogwarts.

Harry flopped back on his bed and stared at the slanted, unfinished ceiling above his head. Normally, during the summer vacations, the Dursley's kept him busy with chores and weeding and it was just best if he stayed quiet and out of their way. Without the chores and the jobs and the hard work… what was he supposed to do? He didn't want to bother with Aurora's impossible garden. It's not like the elves had anything for him to do. Lils and Sal were cooking. Aurora was at some Hogwarts' meeting, and Paradise was out playing with Taygete and Hedwig.

Paradise said she was trying to train Taygete to be more than a post owl. She'd offered to try and train Hedwig too, but the snowy had persistently refused. That didn't keep the Queen of Hogwarts Airspace from watching her little sister Tay learn "stupid" tricks and "pointless" behavior patterns. But still, with Hedwig outside, it meant that Harry didn't have anyone to talk to. He could floo Neville. Or perhaps write a letter to someone, but who? He knew too many people, and he didn't really want to talk to any of them.

Harry rolled over and groaned into his pillow. He was so bored!

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry spent most of Christmas Eve curled into the couch. Aurora's brother, Eclipse and his wife, Sana Belle, had brought over Aria and their younger kids, Anthem and Symphony. Sana Belle took Paradise and her children outside, but Harry declined going. He curled into Aurora's couch with a book and watched the Yule Tide log burn in the fireplace. They hadn't put up a tree this year. None of them had wanted to. Well, Aurora had tried to convince the kids to put one up, but both of them had some pretty bad Christmas memories. Aurora and Eclipse were in the kitchen, talking.

After a few hours, Symphony came inside and plopped into the chair across from Harry. She was seven. She didn't sit still very well. "Whatcha reading?"

"A book on maps."

"Maps?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"'cause I can."

Symphony snickered. "That's weird. Why not about, like, dragons or something interesting?"

"Because I'm interested in this," Harry said, calmly.

The girl bit her nails. "But why?"

"Because mapmaking is a fascinating topic. It's full of history and mystery and precision and time. It takes time to makes maps. I'm trying to make one, and it's not going so well."

"Why not?"

"I'm not smart enough."

Symphony laughed. "You're in Gryffindor, with Aria. She talks about you a lot. Hasn't shut up, really."

"Yeah," Harry said. "It's been a problem. And not just with Aria." Harry returned to his book, and Symphony bit her nails or picked at the chair before getting bored and running into the kitchen to bug her father and Aurora.

Christmas Eve evening was much the same. He ate dinner with everyone else, but retreated into his books once they started discussing random, trivial things. It was easy, with the Dursleys, to stay in his room all day and not do anything, which sufficiently removed him from company. Here, what with Anthem staying in the attic, he needed a book to provide a barrier between him and other people. 'cause he really wasn't in the mood to be around other people. Books were good in that way. He found the appeal of the books getting stronger and stronger. Perhaps he should spend less time around Hermione…

Around seven, Aurora physically took his book away. They fought over it, but Aurora won. So Harry had to spend the rest of the evening watching the kids play board games while the three adults talked about the past years and shared experiences and other activities. Symphony tried to get him to play the game, but he had no interest in learning another new game. He had no interest in anything. He kept waiting for some sort of energy to invigorate him, but nothing did. Apathy actually meant something, again, just like it had for years before the dementor attack.

So Harry watched. He watched Aurora's family as they laughed and joked and enjoyed the season. Paradise was calling Aurora "Mum" consistently. It made Harry feel like an outsider. Aurora had taken Paradise in because that's what Harry had wanted. Paradise had consented because she trusted Harry. And now Paradise was the one with a Mum while Harry still had just a guardian. And he didn't _want_ Aurora to end up as a real parent. And it made him kind of bitter.

Of all of the Sinistras, Symphony was the only one who really tried to engage Harry in conversation. She refused to give up. Which was kind of endearing. All of the elves had stayed out of the way, but Harry could see Symphony and Lils getting along just great. He'd have to make sure to never introduce the two of them.

Around nine, Sana Belle put Symphony to bed, so Harry excused himself and retreated to his attic. Anthem, the only Sinistra boy, would sleep on a cot in the room, but he probably wouldn't come up for another half hour. For that half hour, Harry lay on his bed, stared at the ceiling, and revealed in his apathy.

Christmas came.

Anthem and Aria complained about the lack of a tree. Paradise started trembling so severely that she nearly punched Aria in the nose. They fought.

Harry got overloaded with presents. He'd already arranged for Sal to send most of his presents up into the attic, but he still had more presents in the living room than any of the others. Symphony didn't understand that. Harry tried to explain it. She laughed it off and played with the toy he'd gotten her.

Christmas went.

The other side of the Sinistra family left after a late lunch. Harry retreated back into his attic and started writing thank you notes. It would take forever. He'd already thanked those they'd celebrated with for their presents. Aurora had gotten him an actual flute. During his nightly wanderings last year he'd gotten pretty good on the flute Hagrid gave him first year, but this was an actual flute. Paradise had gotten him a packet of hair supplies and a note: "don't be Malfoy – use it wisely." Eclipse and Sana Belle had given Harry a small wizarding wireless. He already had one, but he thanked them anyway. Aria had gotten him a knife. She told him afterwards that she'd lied and told her parents that it was a potion's knife when it really wasn't. Anthem and Symphony had, he assumed on Aurora's suggestion, gotten him a series of muggle books by an author named Madeleine L'Engle. He had promised to read them first chance he got.

The other gifts he'd already opened came from his other close friends. Hermione had owled him a packet of owl treats that most wizards would consider exotic but were perfectly normal for regular muggles. Taygete managed to weasel away two treats before Hedwig gobbled down the rest. Harry wrote to tell her that the treats were well loved.

Neville had sent him a book on ancient runes. Harry had heard of it too; it was referenced in footnotes in some of the books he'd read, but it was so rare and so old that the Hogwarts library didn't even have a copy. Inside the front cover was penned "Library of Longbottom." It meant a lot to Harry.

From Sarah, Harry received a three set of her artwork. The largest picture was of the five of them, with Sarah painting her own drawing into the picture as the group of five joked about in the Gryffindor common room. The other picture was an abstract charcoal of all the patroni that Sarah had met. The third picture was four, bubble-headed stick figures waving at Harry. Somehow, in height and in simplistic facial expression, Sarah had captured herself, Hermione, Neville and Able just perfectly.

Able got Harry a pair of socks. Or at least, Harry thought they were socks. His note said "I knitted them myself. Romilda might have tried to help." It made Harry laugh. It was great. Inside the socks were five perfectly round rocks. As Harry wrote his thank you note, he rolled the rocks between his fingers and appreciated the magical significance of the stones. They might be useful, in the future.

After he'd responded to those people Harry called Lils into the room and the two of them stared, with some dismay, at the heaps of presents that Sal had been collecting with the daily mail collection. There was a smaller pile – still large though – marked as Hogwarts acquaintances. Harry sighed. They'd be there awhile.

Lils picked up a present, flipped open the tag. "Colin Creevey." She tore open the wrapping paper and it began.

By the end of the day, Lils and Harry had worked their way through the Hogwarts-student pile. The stuff he kept, mostly books, photos, some school supplies, and a few random trinkets, were piled in one side of the room. Things to be donated were placed elsewhere. And a few things, Harry knew he'd throw out. But he still had made a commitment to writing thank you notes for every person that he knew.

It made him extremely grateful that Nora Carmichael and Tracey Davis had both seen fit to give him a dicta-quill.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry enjoyed the Longbottom Ball. He'd flooed to the Grants and met up with Adrian Pucey, who'd be escorting Persephone. The older boy was polite enough, even if he did say only five words to Harry about Quidditch. Pucey and Persephone left first, which allowed Harry to present Selene with her necklace gift. Her parents watched and Harry got the distinct impression that they approved. By the way Selene held herself, tense, unspeaking, Harry could tell that she was even more cold and distant around her parents that she was at school.

Harry offered her his arm and the two of them entered the floo. They landed in the bustling, chaotic Longbottom antechamber. Everyone was dressed to the nines. Harry even recognized a few of the woman's dress robes as clothes from Shaped Clay (oh geez, he was such a girl), but he also recognized that most of those clothes were on the slightly less noble collection. There had to be something like five hundred people at the dance. For the most part, the children would be kept in a side room with only a select few invited into the adult ball chambers. He knew most of the Hogwarts aged kids, but there were several younger sons and daughters who'd be coming to Hogwarts in a few years and a very wide selection of home schooled children.

Neville wasn't around. Harry and Selene jumped straight into the first dance. Afterwards, they drifted apart. Harry made rounds – taking to his fellow students, making them introduce him to their younger siblings, and approaching various home schooled students. He learned many names and most of them got pushed straight out of his head due to the sheer volume of people he met. Probably the most fascinating kid he met was CiCi Amerling.

The girl was short, skinny, and wearing a pale green dress that would never be termed as fashionable. She stood apart from the rest of the kids. She spoke with a heavy Scottish accent and didn't know who Harry was. From what Harry could learn, she'd be entering Hogwarts the following year but really hated being around people. About five minutes into their conversation, she shut down and refused to talk. Harry said goodbye and found Selene on the edge of the dance floor.

"Done making connections?" She asked.

"Mary is an excellent crash course instructor in how to work a room," Harry said.

Selene turned a snort into a half laugh. "It doesn't help that you have practically no faults."

Harry grimaced. "So not true. Hey, where is Mary? I haven't seen her."

She didn't scowl. Harry could tell that she wanted to. "As the only representative of the MacDonald family in attendance, Heir MacDonald thought it necessary to spend the evening with the adults."

Harry blinked. It took him a few minutes to connect the dots. "They really tossed Emma out?"

"Don't be so surprised," Selene ordered. "It was different for your dad. He was pretty much already Lord Potter. Besides, guys get more leniency." She folded her hands in the fabric of her silvery gown. They were both in silver with deep green accents. "And they didn't officially toss her out. They just officially transferred the title of MacDonald onto Mary's shoulders."

"Oh."

"Let's go," Selene said. "We've been standing too long."

They danced a little and then Harry danced with a few girls he knew a bit better than the rest. Then there was the dinner party. As the only official Lord of a Noble and Most Ancient house eating at the "children's" table, Harry sat at the host's right hand. Neville had a higher official ranking than most of the others, but he wasn't an official Lord yet. To Neville's left was CiCi Amerling, who said nothing throughout the entire dinner and only picked at her food. On Harry's right was a homeschooler who would have been a fifth year, and beyond him was Theodore Nott. Fae Daniels was next to Amerling. The head table held around twenty people and there was always at least three conversations going on.

Harry and Neville spent most of the time debating wand rights with Theo and the homeschooler, a kid named Jeremy Mirthan. Jeremy and Harry strongly supported allowing younger students to have wands while Theo and Neville were more conservative. Neville and Harry supported other races being allowed wands while Theo and Jeremy seemed openly scared of that idea. Harry learned a lot from that conversation.

Afterwards, Neville talked Harry into joining him as a guest of honor as they dismissed all five hundred sixty-eight of their guests.

Neville sagged a little as he and his grandmother escorted the second to last guests out of their hallway. He scratched at his eyes before feebly stomping back to Harry. "You heading home?"

Harry nodded. "Aurora said she'd still be up."

"The astronomy curse?"

"She does have a weird schedule."

"Boys," Madam Longbottom said. "Lord Potter, if you will—"

He flooed home.

Sal and Lils had long since retired for the night. Paradise wasn't making a sound. But…

Aurora's bedroom door was closed and her light wasn't on. She was asleep.

Harry didn't understand the twisting, half-guilty feeling of disappointment that shivered within his stomach.

o.o.o.o.o.o

He dreamed of Ron and Hermione again. He dreamed of the cold, empty halls of Hogwarts decorated for Christmas. He dreamed of not having Aurora anymore. He dreamed of a kidnapping.

Of Black.

Of Voldemort.

Of Vernon.

Of Snape.

He dreamed of dead bodies and empty ruins and of Hogwarts torn apart stone by stone. He dreamed that something dark inside of him snapped and he became like Voldemort. He dreamed… A frying pan spun out of a shapeless villain's hand, twisted and convalesced into something indescribable. The nightmare changed from the definable to the indefinable. He couldn't wake up. He wanted to wake up.

A spider.

A green light shooting at a spider.

He'd cast the Killing Curse.

Harry woke with a soft moan.


	35. Transitions

Chapter Thirty-Five

Transitions

Harry arrived at the hospital an hour before his appointment. It took him a little while to find Luna's ward. All he knew was she'd been placed in a long term ward for those with psychiatric problems and the hospital didn't like telling non-family members where those. About twenty minutes after arriving, Harry finally got a nurse to show him into the five person ward.

It wasn't at all what Harry was expecting. Four of the five other inmates simply lay on their beds and stared at the walls. Luna however, sat in the middle of the floor with the little kitten he'd sent her playing with her hands. She wore a simple white hospital gown and seemed more than a little washed out by the overwhelming white-ness that was the hospital. "'lo Harry. Thanks for Caesar."

Harry sat down next to her. "Is that what you called him?"

"Her," Luna corrected. She ran her nimble fingers over the little cat's fur. It purred, but twisted away from her and cautiously approached Harry.

"My cellmates don't like her," Luna said, frowning. "None of them will talk with me."

"Don't you get visitors to talk with?" Harry asked. The kitten purred against his hand.

"Just my dad," Luna said. "And sometimes he forgets. I remind him, normally. But he doesn't do so good without me." She mournfully clicked her tongue a few times.

Harry winced. "How are they treating you?"

Luna shrugged and didn't respond. They stayed silent for a few moments as Caesar bounced between them and soaked up all the attention that they gave him. After a few moments, Luna sighed. "I almost miss Hogwarts. At least there, it wasn't so lonely. Well, it was, it was just a different sort of lonely. Have you ever been lonely, Harry Potter?"

"Yes," he said.

Her eyes narrowed. "Honestly?"

"Yes. In my primary school, none of the other kids wanted to be around me because my cousin scared them all."

"Why would he do that?"

Harry winced again. "I don't know, Luna. Because he was mean?"

"Melissa was mean," Luna shrugged, somewhat mournfully.

The door to the ward opened and a doctor-ish person stepped through. Harry vaguely recognized him from the impromptu class he'd attended, but couldn't place the name. "Hello Luna," said the healer. "Are you enjoying Mr. Potter's visit?"

Luna nodded and held up Caesar. "He's the one who gave me my kitten."

"Oh?" said the healer, with an amused smile on his face. "You love Caesar, don't you?"

She clicked her tongue a few times.

"Luna."

"Oh yes!" Luna said. She glanced at Harry, set Caesar on the ground, and grinned half-heartedly. "I'm sorry. I'm not supposed to chirp."

Before Harry could say anything, the healer said "That's right, Luna. Good girl. We're trying to get her ready to reenter Hogwarts next year. Although, we will suggest to the Headmaster that she get resorted, won't we Luna?"

"I'd like to be a Hufflepuff," Luna said. She fixed her full attention on Caesar. "Grace was kind."

Harry knew the names of everyone in Hogwarts, if not them themselves… Grace Finch-Fletchley was a first year Hufflepuff, and she and her brother were the younger twins of his yearmate. He remembered Justin mentioning how hard it had been to convince his parents that they should be allowed to attend Hogwarts. Maybe he should have paid closer attention… "That would be fun," Harry said, for lack of a better response. He got an affirmative, rather covert nod from the healer. "Hufflepuff is a good house. They have a pool."

Luna's pale eyes fixated on him. She blinked twice. "Cool!" She turned to the healer, who was now checking on the other patients. "I want to go to Hogwarts next year!"

He turned, a more sincere grin on his face. "That's great, Luna. If you stay motivated, we'll get you there."

Harry gave Caesar another pat and stood. "I need to get to my appointment. Do you want me to come by during spring break?" Luna nodded eagerly. "See you then." She waved as he left. She even grabbed Caesar's paw and forced him to wave too. The little kitten didn't look too happy about that, but he didn't really complain either.

He got lost in the St. Mungo's hallway, but he made it to Vince Kingston's office just barely on time. Healer Mena was there too. Harry hid a wince. He liked Vince well enough, but hadn't really managed to get the hang of liking Mena. She was too abrupt. Too straight forward. And knowing that she could, if she wanted to, read his mind, like Dumbledore and whatnot… yeah. At least he trusted that Vince wouldn't try and violate him, whatsoever. "So what are we doing today?" Harry asked as Vince gestured for him to sit down.

The two healers looked at each other. Mena cleared her throat. "We'd like to analyze your curse scar. Given that you were secreted away so soon after receiving it, we really have no information about whether or not it could be affecting your magic."

Harry stared at his hands. "H… how are you planning on doing this?"

Vince half-smiled. "It would be most efficient for the healers if we gave you a sedative and performed some minimally invasive tests. If you do not wish to be knocked out, we can try to work around that, it just won't be as effective."

"What are the risks involved?"

Mena scowled. "Are there any risks when it comes to knowledge?"

Harry outright laughed. "Of course there are."

o.o.o.o.o.o

When the spells started wearing off, Harry woke to raised voices and fuzzy shapes. And no memory of what had happened since Vince had put him under the anesthesia spells.

"This must be reported."

"This _can't_ be reported."

"This must be reported!"

"The DMLE is in turmoil. They don't have a leader, which pretty much means bowing to Fudge. They've got Black on the loose. Bones and Trpcic are locked in a power battle. They can't handle this problem. And you want to turn Harry over to Fudge?"

"The government needs to be informed."

Harry recognized Healer Mena's shrill voice and pinched diction.

"Calm down, the both of you." Daniel Jainsberg's? "Alyssa, Vince is right. This should not be reported."

Mena snarled. "Then what do you propose to do about it?"

The door opened. Harry couldn't see who it was or what was going on. Something pink? Not really. No. His head hurt.

"What's wrong?" The new person. He recognized the voice. But… Ow. "You only call me here for Harry… They've made me, like, his personal bodyguard. And let me tell you, the constant hours are not fun."

That was something important.

Right?

All Harry could focus on was the big, brightly colored bunny bobbing through his eyesight. It was eating a pumpkin. And hopping.

"You won't tell the government but you'll tell her?" Mena said, her voice coated with frost.

"Harry?" Oh, of course. It was Tonks. The bunny was pink now, and hovering over his bed.

"He's still under anesthetics." Voice. Right. Um. Vale. No. Vale was the wrong name. Wrong brother. Vince. Of course. Why was the bunny's name Vince? "He can't hear you, Tonks."

"What's going on?"

The bunny was having arguments with itself.

Wasn't that some sort of mental disorder?

Hrwm…

"We were analyzing his scar," Vince-bunny said. "To some interesting results."

Tonks-bunny quivered. It glanced around at the other fuzzy shapes in the room. "Is this going to be something I'm going to want to report to my boss?"

"Which boss?" Came concurrently with two "Yes"es.

Harry couldn't focus. He couldn't control the fuzz. He fell back down the rabbit hole.

o.o.o.o.o.o

It was Thursday morning before Harry woke again. The hospital room was empty and overwhelming white. Harry tried to clear the fuzz out of his head and succeeded for the most part. He felt… light headed. There were a few family shapes surrounding his bed. He could just make out Hedwig, perched on the end of his bed. They'd let Hedwig into his hospital room?

"Harry?" That sounded like Luna. "He's awake!" Definitely Luna. Why Luna?

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows and blinked at the gathered people. Luna, Aurora, Professor McGonagall, and the Healers Jainesburg, Mena, and Kensington all gathered around his bed. "Miss Lovegood," Jainsburg said, "please alert the Aurors that he's awake."

Luna nodded, skipped a little, a disappeared from the room.

"Sit up, Harry," Kensington said. Aurora reached behind Harry's head and helped him rearrange the pillows so that he could sit properly and still see everyone. McGonagall and Mena took seats at the foot of his bed. Jainesburg and Kensington stood beside the bed. By the time Harry was situated properly, Luna had returned with three aurors: Richard Spinnet, and then a man and a woman that he didn't recognize, but Harry figured that the woman was Tonks, because she seemed to have been elected his personal liaison. And… yup, there was the twinkle in her eyes and an off-beat smile of recognition. "We want you to listen to us, and ask questions later on."

A history lesson followed. One of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The night that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had fallen. Obscure magic. And Harry's scar. His scar. His scar had… had… played host to a piece of Voldemort's soul? But no… no…! When the Healers finished, Harry looked from Aurora to McGonagall to Luna to Tonks to Vince… surely they couldn't be telling the truth? Surely—

"How did you determine this?"

Mena gestured to an ordinary, empty glass jar on the countertop. "Old magiks, Harry. Strange magiks. Strange like the blood and tears that runs through your veins."

Richard Spinnet cleared his throat. "Mr. Potter, given your status in our world, given your propensity for trouble, and the fact that your guardian and teachers have refused to consider removing you from a school environment, the DMLE has, at the request of St. Mungo's, assigned a permanent bodyguard to your person. For the foreseeable future, Auror Tonks will be shadowing you. She will attend your class, your activities, and your life, Mr. Potter. In three weeks' time, we will evaluate this placement, but for the moment, you have been formally requested to live with it."

Harry wanted to protest. He really did. He didn't want to live watched and guarded for his entire life. But then he saw Angelina freeze. He saw Paradise throwing a knife and hitting a friend, not an enemy. He saw the looming cloak of a dementor. He saw a basilisk rising rising rising, jaw open, fangs dripping. He saw basilisk and phoenix locked in combat, attacking each other with brutal force until both shifted and convalesced into bleeding masses of black and orange blood. He saw the sickly green light and the quiet voice, just a whisper. He saw the dead unicorn and the silver blood of life seeping from jaw marks on its flank. He saw his right hand, and the burns that still hadn't gone away. He saw Snape. Dumbledore. And he couldn't deny the logic of a bodyguard. Harry closed his eyes. "What… what will be the logistics of this?"

Tonks grinned. "I'm planning on morphing myself into a kid and following you around all day. It'll be fun!"

He wondered what she'd think of the invisibility cloak. He decided not to mention it in front of all these people. Maybe he shouldn't tell her at all… "And is this an immediate effect?" His scar started hurting.

Or maybe he just started noticing the hurt.

Tonks nodded. "We'll swing over for your party this afternoon, and then we'll be returning to Hogwarts for the rest of Christmas vacation."

"Fine."

That conversation closed, McGonagall cleared her throat. "In addition, the teachers at Hogwarts will be assessing, Mr. Potter, whether or not you should be allowed to continue on the workload you have set for yourself."

Harry snorted. "It's not like I'm just going to stop learning. Not now that I've begun."

McGonagall started to challenge him, but Luna chirped from behind the aurors. They'd let her stay? "Learning. I want to learn."

Jainsburg said something to Mena, but Harry didn't catch what it was.

"Is there anything else?" Harry asked. No one said anything. He looked at Aurora. "Then can we go home?"

They went.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Ursa-Upon-Heavens had been transformed. Two huge tents had been set up on her lawn. The garden had been expanded, weeded, and decorated with Christmas lights. Six Quidditch hoops had been raised about half-a-mile from the house. When they arrived, just before lunch, Neville was in the gardens, directing Carter and two elves that Harry didn't recognize but who wore the mark of Longbottom on their shoulders in the gardens. Jessie and Sal were working in the kitchen, churning out dish after dish after dish. Paradise directed Taygete in putting up lights on the edges of the tents.

Hermione was rushing about, making sure everything was running ever so perfectly. Lils, unnoticed by the bushy-haired girl, followed her about and alternated between watching and learning and doing a perfect imitation. Dan and Emma Granger watched, half in awe, as things about them whizzed and whirled and danced. Mr. and Mrs. Vane, who'd offered some magical chaperones, were setting up tables under the tent and laying out a flat surface for dancing. Romilda helped Neville in the garden, and Able did whatever Hermione told him to. The chaos was amazing.

Aurora disappearing into the kitchen to help the two house-elves and Tonks pranced up to Mrs. Matilda Vane and started to help set up the dance floor. Harry joined Able under Hermione's thumb. Hedwig hadn't flooed back with them, so she'd be a few hours in returning. Harry and Able whizzed about, laying out party favors and making sure Paradise had gotten Taygete to hang the lights _just so_. Harry let himself get caught in the flow of things, and before he knew it, people had started arriving.

The Spinnet girls arrived first, accompanied by Katie Bell and Eliza Kirke. The Weasley twins arrived, pulling Ginny along behind them. Percy had been invented but declined, and Ron had decided to go to some event with his father instead. Yet the twins had brought along their two oldest brothers – Charlie and Bill. Cedric Diggory arrived with them. After that, Harry lost track of who was arriving. He was vaguely aware of a short, freckled, laughing girl with cherry-red hair and oddly green eyes pop-up by his shoulder and stay there for most of the time. He was vaguely aware of Charlie recruited enough people for a huge, twenty-on-twenty, four beater, three keeper, two seeker, eleven chaser Quidditch brawl.

William and Emma showed up, with Natalie in tow, but Harry didn't see Mary and none of the Grants had been allowed to come. Neville had assured Harry that it was perfectly acceptable for him to express indignation that Persephone and Selene hadn't come to his party. In fact, Neville spent most of the party at Harry's elbow, directing him towards the homeschooled students and random nobility kids that he needed to know. Harry tried to file the information, but he lost most of the names and faces once each individual conversation ended.

The house-elves kept food abundant and fresh. The magical performers that Harry had hired kept people entertained. The Robbins sisters and Leann Hooch kept the dance floor in use as they cycled through a series of dances and celebrations. Quidditch was watched. Conversations were had. Food was eaten. It was chaos, but delightful chaos.

At just before six, Neville hissed in Harry's ear that he'd done his host-duties, so Harry bounded off to the Quidditch field and joined in a seeker challenge that Oliver Wood seemed especially eager to have. Harry was challenging Charlie, Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, Tonks, Natalie McDonald, and two homeschoolers. Oh, but was that fun! Hedwig arrived home while he was in the air, so she hovered above the pitch and joined in a few of Harry's crazier dives as he spun through the competition and came up with the second most snitches. Charlie had destroyed him when it came to actual collection of snitches.

Harry started to collapse shortly after that. Well, not really, but he definitely felt drained. Hermione, Neville and Tonks escorted him away from everyone and up into his attic. There, Tonks and Neville got everything packed before Neville and Hermione returned to the party and Tonks flooed Harry straight to the Gryffindor common room. There, in the empty red-gold room, Harry collapsed and fell asleep, with little thought to the lush carpet he landed on.

o.o.o.o.o.o

The castle seemed particularly empty this year.

Harry woke in his regular bed at seven am. He blinked. No nightmares this time. No nothing. He dressed in a selection of drapes from his Shaped Clay Co. wardrobe. It was Christmas break and he was allowed to wear a hat. Which felt wonderful. The common room was empty. Harry wandered down to the Great Hall. There was a notice stuck to the closed doors that meals had been moved into a large first floor lecture hall a few hallways over. Harry trotted over and entered the much smaller room. Two tables had been set up in the room, and they were already laden with breakfast foods. Professors Babbling and Lupin where the only ones in the room, and they were discussing some ancient Latin tome.

Harry filled his plate and sat down across from them. They included him in their conversation, but he couldn't participate to the extent that they did. He simply soaked in the Latin they discussed and filed it away in his brain for further use. Several minutes later, a few older students entered and formed a small cluster at the other table. Professor Babbling left and Harry started discussing this-that-and-random things with Professor Lupin. The food was good. It was good conversation.

Tonks, this time in full-grown, hair bright pink, burst into the room and plopped down next to Harry. "Thanks for that," she mumbled and stuffed a roll in her mouth. "I just spent twenty minutes looking for you. Why on earth are you awake this early?"

"This is late," Harry retorted.

She groaned. "Don't you ever, like, sleep in?"

"No."

Tonks bashed her head on the table. "Whee."

Conversation after that switched to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry soaked up the information from auror and professor. They argued about spell usage, dueling, and even on the topic of some magical animals before Harry noticed Remus purposefully spinning the conversation away from magical creatures. Just as Tonks was about to start a spiel on some sort of creature defense, Harry asked "Can you teach me how to duel?"

That switched the direction of flow and Tonks and Remus both agreed to help Harry develop at least rudimentary dueling skills over the next week or so.

And that's what they did.

They started that first day in Remus's quarters. He pulled out a chess set and proceeded to trounce Harry. And then again. And then again. Tonk perched on his desk, her legs swinging, her elbows resting on her knees as she watched the two of them play. Harry hated chess, he really did. After the fifth game, in which Harry managed _not_ to lose in three turns, because he'd played with Ron enough to know _that_ particular set of moves, Remus sat back and stared at Harry. "Now tell me why that was a pointless activity."

Harry stared down at the half empty chess board. "Because I can't play chess?"

Remus snorted. "No. Because it's chess." He leaned forward, tapped the board and said "melee." The chess board grew and changed, turning into a brightly colored forest studded with little figurines. "Control your troops, Harry." So their troops met in real time, fought at a conceivable variable strengths, and all to the chorus of Tonk's engaged, awe-inspiring commentary. Apparently, melee-chess wasn't all that common. Harry still got trounced. After Remus beat him twice, Tonks kicked off the desk and pushed Harry from his seat. So Harry took her seat on the desk and watched the two of them battle. It was a pretty epic match-up.

Tonks kept her strength amassed in the same place, except for a few key pieces that that Remus seemed to have missed. She moved those pieces with agonized slowness, whenever Remus was distracted with something else. And he seemed, at least, not to notice the four little pieces sneaking beside his flank. It was a pretty grand battle overall. After that battle, Remus stood and gestured for Harry to play Tonks. That was fun. He got trounced. For the rest of the morning, they switched out who played the games.

That afternoon, Harry led them up to the armory. Tonks cooed and started squealing about how much she'd have wanted this place while she was in school. But it was Remus that puzzled Harry. The man wandered through the armory, his steps slow and sad, his eyes darting around the room but as if he was seeing something else, something long forgotten. Occasionally, he would reach out and brush just the tips of his fingers over a wall or a sword… He wandered the length of the room and doubled back, all the while nostalgic about something.

When he reached Harry, the student said, "Did you come here often?"

"All the time," Remus said. "It's where your father learned to be an animagus."

Harry blinked. "Dad was an animagus?"

"They all were," Remus said.

Tonks whirled around from her examination of swords and statues. In just a few seconds she had crossed the hallway and stood in front of Remus. "They." She repeated, in a low voice. "They. _The_ they?"

Remus nodded.

The metamorphmagus's hair cycled to a fiery red. Her shrill voice echoed through the armory. "Sirius Black is an animagus and you didn't think this important to tell me?! I'm responsible for Harry's wellbeing, Lupin, I need to know this! The aurors need to know this! What form does he take!"

Remus looked at his shoes. He seemed… lost. But his voice was cool and collected when he replied. "A large black dog. Grim-like."

Harry startled.

Bodyguard and professor looked at him.

"I… I saw a Grim, the night I ran away from my uncle's… It was right before I accidentally called the Knight Bus…"

"You saw Sirius?" Remus said, in tandem with Tonks' shrill "you've seen Black?!"

Harry flinched away from them. "I don't know! It was just this big black dog thing that, well, it _looked_ like Trelawney's book's picture of the Grim, I just didn't know—"

"Stop stuttering, Harry," Tonks said.

Remus ran his hand through his hair and stumbled back a few steps, a shocked, exhausted expression on his face. "He really is going after you. He really is. I didn't want to believe it… I didn't want…"

Tonks frowned. "C'mon, Harry, let's see if we can get you to the point of surviving if Black ever should try and do what Malfoy and Flint tried."


	36. Forever On

Chapter Thirty-Six

Forever On

The only breaks they took for training were the necessary ones. Sal forced water and sleep on Harry and Tonks. He didn't worry so much about Remus, because the professor was responsible enough and didn't do most of the drills with the other two. He watched, critiqued, taught… but left the demonstrating up to Tonks. By the end of the weekend, Harry was sore and snappish. He avoided Paradise and Aurora. He stayed away from the rest of the students remaining in the castle. He wanted to be able to defend himself.

But Tonks could pick him apart without her wand, with her wand, in the body of a three year old, in every possible permutation of their sparring. When they meleed with the chess pieces, Remus tore him to shreds. He'd killed Voldemort (again) first year and a basilisk second year, but his luck seemed to be failing him against professor and auror. Perhaps it was because he wasn't going in for the kill. And, well, wasn't that a morbid thought?

A restless Harry rolled out of bed at two o'clockish on Wednesday the 5th. He was supposed to be sleeping. Sal had insisted, and Tonks and Remus agreed, that they needed at least nine hours a day for sleep. The past couple of nights, Harry had really only gotten three or four, and it seemed to be eluding him again tonight. The exhausted student dug his invisibility cloak out of his trunk and threw it over his head. He didn't want Tonks following him, he really didn't. She was nice enough and all, but sometimes she just got too loud and too boisterous when all he wanted to do was sit and read.

The already empty castle seemed emptier without the majority of the students. Harry paced around the moving staircases for a while. He liked it there. They could spit him out on the randomest of floors sometimes. But tonight, he ended up on the seventh, at the very top of the main part of the castle. This area of the castle was empty, but it was also the area Aurora had first found him, pacing the hallways under an invisibility cloak and cursing whatever monster had taken Hermione away from him.

And then again, when he'd run to her, telling her the truth. And she listened.

And then again, when he told her how much he wanted to stay at Hogwarts over the summer. How she listened and believed.

Out of everyone, Aurora was his first real supporter.

Maybe he should go talk to her, Harry thought, as he turned a corner and continued his pace. She'd still be up. Normally, her midnight classes would have ended just half an hour ago, and she always tried to stay on an astronomer's sleep cycle. Well, he really didn't know her habits all that well. Had she changed all that much since last year? Maybe it was really Harry himself who'd changed. He didn't really know. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. He rounded another corner. And, hang on. Where those sobs?

Sure enough, Aurora Sinistra was tucked into one of the crannies they'd once used to meet at if anything went wrong. Something was obviously wrong. Harry slid the invisibility cloak off his shoulders and stepped into the cranny. She didn't notice him at first. "Aurora?"

She started. Something metallic clanged against the stone. "Harry? What on _earth_ are you doing out of bed?"

He didn't answer at first. "I guess… the same thing I did all of last year."

"Harry." There was honestly no emotion in her voice. It was flat. Tired and desolate, almost, but strong enough to mask those emotions. Oh… Oh how desolate she seemed. "Tell me, Harry, have you ever considered just giving up?"

The complete desperation in her voice slapped Harry in the gut. Aurora was always his strong point. Even, even in the past couple of months when he'd gone to Neville and Able, or Selene, or Remus, or Hermione, even as he'd stood as the strength for half of Hogwarts, he'd only done it because she was still strong. The astronomy mistress had been his solid ground in the back of his mind and he hated to see her fallen. "What… what happened?"

"Nothing, really, nothing."

Harry shifted his weight. "You know, I can tell when people are lying."

She didn't answer.

"Aurora, please." Fear shook his voice. He didn't understand. She was never supposed to be so desolate and silent. She was the strong professor who never let him quit. She'd literally dragged him through the latter half of last year. She refused to let him care what others thought about it. She refused to let him wallow in self-pity over Hermione's absence. She took him in, when no one else did. And she was weak… that scared him.

After another moment, Aurora sighed. "There's some things that I don't want you to understand, Harry. Not at this moment. Sometimes, other adults can be cruel. Nasty, even. And sometimes, there's nothing you can do about it."

"Kids too," Harry said.

Aurora shook her head. "No. All those Slytherins you once would have worn were nasty? Harry, you changed Hogwarts. These changes will not be easily undone. The students of this year, whoever it was—"

"Patricia," Harry interrupted again. "She did it. Well, with help. And—"

"Harry."

He trailed off. Around them, the dark castle shivered. It was so empty. Empty castles bleed.

"You're an amazing kid, Harry. But you can't fix everything."

He bit the inside of his cheek. Why? He wanted her to stop! He wanted to run away and never face her weaknesses again. No, it was all wrong. She couldn't be curled into a ball, crying in the middle of a hallway. She was teacher, his guardian, his support. Please, please, this was wrong.

"And so I've sat back and watched. All this time. These past couple of months, the only thing I can see is the day you break down. The day you stop. The day you give up. The day everything that's been accomplished in these past couple of months just ends."

He couldn't breathe. His heart pounded against his chest. Hedwig's gentle touch pushed her way into his mind. _Come to me,_ her voice whispered. _Come to me._ He didn't look at Aurora, no, that he couldn't have handled. Almost instinctually, he curled his hand around the fabric of his invisibility cloak and left. The empty walls closed around him, crying for noise, for people, for attention. For memories. Harry couldn't think. Memories invaded him, bore down on him. He knew all these things had never happened, no, no…

The first time he stumbled was on the fourth floor.

"_He got a Firebolt for Christmas."_

He struggled back to his feet. _Hedwig?_

_Here. Come quickly._

_Where is here?_

"_A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A – a real Firebolt?"_

The memories were wrong. This had never happened. It wasn't real.

But it was reality.

o.o.o.o.o.o

By the time he reached Hedwig, the false memories had buried themselves too deep into Harry's mind. His owl perched on an unknown perch in an unknown room in an unknown part of the Castle. "Hedwig…" Harry gasped. It was all he could process.

She hooted.

"Why did Aurora give up?"

Hedwig shook her head. She took flight and flew in a quick circle around the room. Harry refocused on his surroundings. It was just an ordinary room. A pedestal sat equidistant from all seven walls. Seven? The disoriented third year counted the walls of the room again. The room wasn't large, but the curved ceiling and angled corners made him feel incredibly small. He swallowed and stepped towards the pedestal. He was too short to see the tiny artifact resting on top of the stone statue until he was right next to it. Hedwig alighted on the perch behind him.

It was a heart. A small, stone, beating heart. Harry frowned. "Hogwarts?"

Hedwig cooed.

He reached out, but his fingers couldn't touch the stone. His flesh seared. Harry jerked away and stared, in calm numbness, and stared at his burnt hands.

More burns.

Hogwarts shuddered in response.

He felt it, running through the stone, running through his legs, running through the entire stoneworked castle. The very life itself of the venerable wonder of magic was crying. And it hurt. All the memories and emotion washed over him again, and what limited occlumency he knew didn't keep it out. Real memories, false memories, memories long past, memories long gone, people he knew, people he didn't know, memoires of… memories of everything. The sentient castle had watched many of the most influential people in Britain's magical society grow from children to adults. The castle knew, in short, everything.

No human soul could handle everything.

_Hogwarts is sick,_ Hedwig said, softly. _The bumblebee made Hogwarts sick._

And Harry saw it. He saw all of Dumbledore's lies and calculations, all of his manipulations and mistakes, all of his future plans and past successes. He saw the Heart of Hogwarts shrivel in on itself, forced to enact mental cruelty, subjugated to a force it hated… The pain and sadness nearly drove Harry to his knees.

It wasn't just Aurora who had given up.

Hogwarts had stopped believing.

Tears streamed from Harry's face. He reached out again. The energy burned his hands, but he ignored that. They might as well be crisp to the bone. He laid his hands around the heart, cupping it in his burning hands. He gave Hogwarts his love, his believe, his hope, his all.

Hogwarts.

Harry crumbled to the cold stone ground. Hedwig swooped around the room again.

The castle lived.


	37. Life

**A/N: Thank you. Be ordinary.**

Epilogue

Life

Hogwarts burned.

It was a dark fire, scented with the seeping blood of the wounded and newly dead. Fingers closed around fingers as the family of survivors clung together. The largest gathering was of scared little first and second years and their guardians. Tyler Pomfrey, the fourth year entrusted with their care, tended to the couple of scrapes the terrified children had gained as they pressed against the walls, eyes wide, eyes fixed on the suits of armor racing past, eyes fixed at the flashes of light, at the battle, at the death.

They were so little.

It wasn't a burn that would last forever. The stonework was too entrenched, the castle too strong to be brought down by a nefarious foe as fire. No, it was a different sort of flames that the survivors left in fighting condition tried to put out. Special-elect Auror Nymphadora Tonks led her battered battalion against the flames, keeping the sickly stench of pain and death from reaching anyone further. Wand battled the flames, flames fueled by the blood of people that Hogwarts had once loved.

Hogwarts lives.

And every living creature suffers when what they love is hurt.

No one begrudged the silent sentinel his walk from clustered gathering to clustered gathering. He touched shoulders now, kissed a few foreheads, clasped hands, and doled out hugs. He did not say a word. For the first time in four years, he wore no gloves, but few noticed the intricate scars that had crept beyond his fingers, across his palms, into an intricate dance of scar tissue. Each scar was a story, something he'd given up in his journey…

Journey?

No.

There is an end to each journey, a point when things end and there is no light on the horizon because everything is ended and resolution is reached and a home has been reached.

No one begrudged the devastated man his round passed the bodies of the dead… too many to name, too many to mention… yearmates, younger-years, older-years, old friends, new friends, long lost companions, unknowns, unexpecteds… William Caric was posed, his hands on his chest, his wand slipped between his hands – eyes closed. Hogwarts wept for him. Sally-Anne, the consummate idiot… he turned away before allowing himself to ruminate on her death. She had returned, untrained, unpracticed, on only the knowledge that she might help save lives.

And she did.

She did and paid for it.

The gathered community of first, second… even the third years…

Hogwarts wept for her.

And so did Harry.

They wept for too many names, too many faces, too many friends...

He slipped away from the dead, tripping over the foot of the last person in line.

Colin Creevey.

Too young to die.

They were all too young to die.

Tears and curses welled in Harry's soul, but none spilled out.

"Harry?" Many individuals had escaped from the cluttered auditorium and Great Hall and grand rooms expanded to accommodate the environments. The hallways reeked of a different environment. "If you're going to throw up, do it in the bathroom." Luna's blunt comment almost broke through the fog of haze and grief. He knew she'd lost an arm: that her empty sleeve hung down over the magical cauterized stump; that her wand was clutched in the wrong hand… "It's better in there."

"Thanks."

She clicked at him, a genuine smile on her face.

He moved on. Was he looking for someone?

Not really. The dead were gathered, and he'd said goodbye.

The living were scattered, but he'd reassured the clustered. He found more living, more reassurance, in the silent hallways of the sobbing castle.

It was Hermione, he found, at the top of the astronomy tower. She stood too close to the edge, her hands clasped behind her, eyes fixed on the band of warriors keeping the flames of the dead at bay. He slipped up behind her. "Where's Kenneth?"

She turned her head just enough to acknowledge him, but not comment. "With Kaitlin. Sarah?"

Harry almost didn't respond. "Still being worked on."

"She'll pull through. She always does."

Harry took a step closer to the edge. He could see now, the drop down and the crumbled bodies of the burning dead below. They hadn't gathered the dead of the Death Eaters. They haven't seen the point. Aurora, though, had been pulled from the heaps… not wounded by any magic, but only gravity and ill-will and the ensnarement's of an evil moon. Hermione shivered. Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders, but neither of them moved beyond that. There was too much emotion hanging, too much to acknowledge.

"Do you think we could have done it, without everyone?"

At his question, Hermione dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out her soft, perfectly round, gray stone. She turned it over in her hand. "Five rocks each Christmas. Five people. Five more rocks each Christmas. Four more Christmases. The twenty-five of us, trusted with the Hunt." She swallowed. "Well, in Merlin's name, Annaline saved our asses." The silent thanks for trust was left unside.

Harry forced a humored smile. "You always did love her work."

"What's this biography I've heard about?" The retort was quick, ordinary. The mood settled around them, almost heavier than before.

"Thank you."

"For—"

"Never leaving."

She winced, but accepted the thanks. The words fumbled out without her control. "Kenneth wants to get away. Leave England. Leave the death."

Harry froze, but did his very best not to let her notice. She noticed anyway. "Go with him." He leaned to the side and pressed a quick kissed to her forehead. "Go become best friends with your parents."

"England needs…" she fumbled, "you need me. There's things that still need to be done, loose ends-"

"Hermione, not everything has its answer. Not everything is explainable. Like time travel, right?" She smirked. "Accept it, please. And, yeah, you know I do. But I'll have Li. Able. Tonks. Everyone, really. They'll keep me on track." The absence of Sarah's name punched Hermione in the gut.

She leaned on his shoulder, forcing uneven gasps into her chests. "Everything is going to change. And she _will_ pull through."

"I know. But, not everything. Not everything changes." Harry whispered. "Hogwarts lives."

She closed her eyes. "Hogwarts lives."

Below them, one last blow from the wand of five fighters extinguished the flames. In the great rooms, packed with recovering survives, the whisper passed from person to person in reassurance: "Hogwarts lives." In the infirmary, they lost two souls but pulled one out of the woods. The first words on her lips were a question. "Hogwarts lives?"

"Yes."

She closed her eyes, stable now. "Hogwarts lives." Rejoice. Proclaim it allowed. "As long as Hogwarts lives…"

No.

It'll live. Forever on. As ordinary as any magic castle could be.


End file.
